


Put Them Back Together Again

by Macaroon1837



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Amputation, Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Canon-Typical Violence, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hospitalization, Past Peggy Carter/Steve Rogers, Slow Burn, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-16
Updated: 2019-02-10
Packaged: 2019-04-23 14:24:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 36
Words: 47,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14334390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Macaroon1837/pseuds/Macaroon1837
Summary: Although you've been working in Tony Stark's lab for over a year, you have never had a face-to-face interaction with any of the Avengers. Following the events of CA:CW, you begin to learn just how much this conflict has changed the Avengers. You grow close to Captain America and encourage him to move forward, even as he thinks that he and his team are irreparably broken.





	1. Wrong Turn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! I'm not sure when I'm going to get out to see Infinity War, but no matter what happens canon-wise, I'm going to keep going with this fic!

‘You’re doing a great job, Colonel. Do you think that you can do three more for me?” Carly stood by as Colonel Rhodes stepped up onto the box in front of him, his exoskeleton whirring as the pneumatic joints shifted. You looked down at the tablet in your hands and smiled at the readouts. The newest upgrades that Tony Stark had added to his best friend’s machinery seemed to be keeping up with the Colonel’s strict rehab regimen. The whirring stopped as Colonel Rhodes finished his third set of box steps. You followed him and Carly to a nearby bench and helped him to sit. Carly handed him a towel in one hand and a bottle of water in the other, waiting to watch him take several sips before turning to retrieve his wheelchair. Kneeling down to disconnect the hardware from his legs, you grinned as he muttered to himself about upstart physical therapists. “She may be one of the tiniest people I know, but she’s also the scariest,” you laughed. Colonel Rhodes chuckled and shifted so that you could finish taking the exoskeleton apart. “I’d take a drill instructor over her any day. But she’s damn good at her job.” Setting the various mechanical pieces in their padding lined case, you snapped it shut and stood up. “She sure is, Colonel. I’m going to print out the new component that Mr.Stark emailed me. It should be ready by your next PT appointment.”

  
After saying your goodbyes, you wheeled the case containing the exoskeleton out of the rehab gym and towards your lab. You carefully set each piece in its housing to charge before sitting down at the 3D printer. Pulling up the schematics that Mr.Stark had emailed you, you logged the reference points into the computer and began the printing sequence. The smell of plastic filled the lab as you sat and watched the piece print. After a few minutes of silence split by the whirring of the machine and a few yawns on your part, you rose and got ready to go home. Setting the printer to send you a text alert when it was finished, you turned off the lights, locked up, and headed out of your lab.

  
As you walked towards the lobby of the new Avengers Facility, you passed beneath Tony Stark’s giant office that overlooked various facilities on the floors beneath it. You wondered for the thousandth time if he had read over your notes. You had never met the man in person, despite the fact that you worked in his building, using his tools and funding, as well as ordering techs around in a lab set up by him. Instead, you were privy to the pages and pages of notes he would send you regarding his best friend’s exo-suit, a pet project of his that you suspected was fueled by guilt more than passion. Nevertheless, you had happily been applying his suggestions to the suit, which you were beginning to think of as your baby. But the radio silence from the genius engineer was troubling; he cared too much about Colonel Rhodes to abandon him during his recovery. The media outlets were all suspiciously quiet when it came to news about the Avengers. As you walked out into the evening air, you looked up at the glowing ‘A’ on the side of the building and wondered if the whole thing was another elaborate scheme cooked up by someone seeking control. Shaking your head, you pushed the paranoid thoughts to the back of your mind, unlocked your car and headed for home.

  
After grabbing leftover carbonara for dinner, you plopped down in front of your laptop and checked various media sites for any news about the Avengers. After aliens invaded earth, and a Nazi spy agency had invaded your government, you were always slightly apprehensive about looking at the news. These days, it seemed like anything could happen. Leaving your laptop and empty bowl on your coffee table, you laid back on the couch, promising yourself that you’d shower and go to bed after taking a quick nap out in the living room.

  
You sat up with a snort and a jerk as a notification blared across your phone’s screen. Stretching and rubbing your eyes, you checked the time. It was 6:30am and the printer was evidently done. All traces of sleepiness gone, you took a quick shower and brushed your teeth. Grabbing a protein bar and an orange from the bowl on the counter, you were out the door and on the way back to your lab.

 

You greeted Carl the morning security guard cheerfully when you stepped back into the lobby. Slipping your snacks into your lab coat pocket, you waved your ID card over the scanner and hurried over to the printer. The newest piece of Colonel Rhodes’ exo-suit was even more impressive in person. Grabbing your file set, you sat down at a lab bench and began to file away the excess plastic that surrounded the component.

  
You weren’t sure how long you had been at work, but if the twinge between your hunched shoulder blades was any indication, it had been awhile. Sighing, you set down your tools and gently laid the piece down on the bench. Spinning your chair around to face the rest of your lab, you pulled your phone out of one pocket and the orange out of the other. After peeling the piece of fruit, you scrolled through your news feed as you ate the citrus slice by slice. You were two thirds of the way down a list of celebrity throwbacks on Buzzfeed when the lab door chimed and someone barged inside. Stifling a squeal, you jerked in surprise and your phone shot out of your hand. Falling forward, you caught the piece of tech before it hit the floor and looked up at the intruder.

  
You looked up. And up. And up, before meeting a pair of blue eyes shielded by a blue baseball cap. One knee still on the ground, you gaped. The tall man looming above you frowned and surveyed your lab. “This isn’t the debrief room, is it?” he asked. Standing, you backed up a few steps to save your neck the pain of having to bend to look at him. His broad shoulders were tense beneath a leather jacket and his hands were tucked defensively into the pocket of his jeans. “I-uh...I think you’re a few floors down from where you need to be.” The frown deepened, further disturbing the otherwise handsome face. “Shit,” he muttered to himself, before looking over at you and blushing. “Apologies, ma’am. Jet lag is no excuse for bad manners.” Taking his hat off and tucking it into a back pocket, the man ducked his head and turned to leave. “Wait!” It slipped out before you could stop yourself, the words making contact with the air in the same moment you recognized the man standing in front of you. “Uh, Captain Rogers, right?” He nodded grimly. “I can show you to the intelligence sector if you want.” He paused for a moment, considering, before nodding grimly. “I hate to be a bother, but I’m not used to this new facility and there don’t seem to be many people around this time of day.” Nodding, you set the rest of the orange on the desk and led the way out of your lab.

 

You tried to regulate your breathing as you led Captain America himself through the halls of the new Avengers Facility. You did your best to hurry along, aware that he could have easily overtaken your short strides. But even though you could sense the discomfort emanating from him, he kept pace with you perfectly, matching his steps to yours. Breathlessly you reached an elevator, and together the two of you waited for it to make its way to you. As you stood awkwardly next to a national hero, you wondered why someone as smart as Tony Stark couldn’t make an elevator that went any faster than a crawl. Finally, the doors swished open and Captain America stood back so that you could enter first. Reaching for the proper floor, you prayed that you would have the proper clearance to get him where he needed to go. You knew that your badge would only get you to the first round of security, but you figured that Captain America could find his way through a few checkpoints.

  
Standing awkwardly in the large elevator, you wracked your mind for light conversation topics but came up blank. You were never good at this sort of thing, mostly because you didn’t care. If it had been Mr.Stark, you could have talked shop, discussing his newest findings. But what did Captain America like to do in his free time? You considered bringing up the weather, as his pop culture knowledge was probably a bit more dated than your own. Your awkward overture was interrupted by a grumble coming from his side of the elevator. Facing straight ahead, you peeked in his direction. His face, neck, and ears were scarlet, redder than the stripe on his shield. You weren’t planning on saying anything, but his stomach spoke up again, more insistently this time. “Haven’t eaten since I got on the plane,” he explained sheepishly. You smiled and reached into your pocket, producing the protein bar you’d grabbed earlier. “I had my orange,” you explained as you offered it to him. He moved to refuse, but his stomach started up again. Smiling for the first time since he found his way to your lab, he took it. “Thank you ma’am. ‘Preciate it.”  
You smiled back, marveling at the change a smile brought to his face. Before you could untangle your tongue enough to say something in response, the elevator doors slid open. “Here we are,” you announced. “The intelligence sector. This is where I’ll have to leave you, as I don’t have a high enough clearance to go any further.” Turning to leave, you were stunned when Captain Rogers reached out and took your hand. “Thank you for taking pity on a lost soul…” he paused.  
“Y/N, captain” you replied.  
“Y/N,” he finished. “And you can call me Steve.” You nodded and headed back to the elevator. As the doors closed, you watched his retreating form approach the checkpoint and chuckled at the once in a lifetime meeting you’d just had.


	2. Black and Blue

It took three days to finish filing and prepping the newest addition to the exo-suit. You were so excited to see it in action that you showed up to Colonel Rhodes’ PT appointment an hour early. Having set up all of your equipment on the bench near the parallel bars, you sat and looked around the PT gym. It was early morning, the dawn light outside was still chilly and a mist hung over the fields that surrounded the base. No one else was working out or training with a physical therapist. You crossed your legs and wondered how much longer you could have slept in. 

You had just begun to doze when a clank and a swear woke you with a start. Standing up, you cautiously followed the sounds of frustrated muttering to the opposite side of the gym where the weights were. Captain -  _ Steve- _ sat on a weight bench rubbing a shoulder while a barbell with the heaviest weights waited above him on the rack. You couldn’t suppress the gasp that left your mouth at the sight of him. The first time the two of you had met, he was tense and terse, his agitation and clothing masking the rest of his physicality. Today he sat before you in sweatpants and a sleeveless shirt. You’d always admired him in photos, but now you ignored his taut muscles. Every inch of him was covered in bruises. Some were clearly on the mend, just a sickly yellow. But others were a deep purple, obviously remnants of severe tissue damage. In the floor-to-ceiling mirror that stood behind him, you could see similar bruises on his back. You could tell from his posture that his back was spasming, yet he had tried to muscle through the pain and failed. 

He looked up at you with gritted teeth when you gasped. Stepping closer, you knelt to look at him in the eyes. “You’re in pretty bad shape there, Steve. Why don’t you get some R&R before trying to bench-” you peered behind him. “-four hundred pounds.” Steve grunted and leaned away from you. 

“S’the only thing that helps. I just never...I’m not…” he paused and hung his head, hissing in pain in the process.

“You’re not used to feeling hurt,” you finished. Wordlessly, he nodded, still staring at the floor. You checked your watch. Twenty-five minutes until your appointment. Standing, you laid a hand on his shoulder before turning and heading towards the equipment room. “Don’t move, I’ll be right back.” 

A minute later, you returned with an armful of supplies. Stopping in front of him again, you held out an arm. “Hot or cold?” you asked. He looked up at you and frowned in confusion. 

“What?” Leaving the other items on the floor at your feet, you showed him his options. “Hot pack or cold pack? They both can relieve muscle pain, but I like to let folks pick. I always like heat, but the cold will also help with your bruising.” Steve gingerly indicated the cold pack. Moving around him, you draped it over his shoulders and began gently working on the knots between his shoulder blades. He hissed in pain again and tried to avoid your hands, but you wordlessly followed him, still maintaining light pressure. Finally, he gave up and sat. You continued, working your way through his fascia and muscle until you could feel the spasms begin to dissipate. He sighed and relaxed almost imperceptibly. “Better?” you asked, stepping back in front of him. 

“Much, thank you ma’am.” You leaned over and offered him some of the other things you had brought out. 

“Ibuprofen and water. You need to stay hydrated, especially when you’re recovering. The pills’ll help with the pain, but I’m not sure what dose to start you out with, you’re a pretty big guy. What dose do you usually take?” you asked, sizing him up. Sipping the water, he shrugged. 

“I dunno, I’ve never really taken anything. Or been to a doctor, really. Not since right after I took the serum anyway. Never needed to.” It was your turn to frown. 

“So you’ve never gone to get yourself checked out or put back together? And here I was thinking that the insurance this place offers is pretty good.” Steve chuckled darkly. 

“Stark’s serum is a hellava thing. Saved me a lot of medical bills.” Shaking a handful of pills into your palm, you offered them to Steve. 

“Well, I won’t bill you this time, but you have got to take care of yourself.” You closed your mouth before asking your next question. Having worked with vets your entire career, you knew to tread lightly around their battle scars. Some wore them loud and proud, others not so much. You pegged Steve, ever the humble hero, as one of the latter. “How...long ago did you get these, Steve?” you asked quietly. Steve frowned and seemed to be doing some mental math. 

“Mmm. About a week, maybe? I’ve been...busy.” You nodded. 

“Well, the serum seems to be doing its job. None of these should be this far along. But the big ones are gonna need to be babied, okay? Give the bench some time to cool off and make sure that you’re rehabbing your muscles.” Steve opened his mouth to argue, but you cut him off. “Please trust that I know what I’m doing, Steve. A few days of rest is a lot better than a week or more of extra recovery time. You’ll be back saving the world in no time.” 

“I’m not so sure about that,” Steve responded grimly. Before you could ask, the doors to the gym opened and Carly and Captain Rhodes breezed into the room chatting animatedly. Carly plugged her iPhone into the speakers and the sounds of AC/DC filled the room. Knowing that the moment was lost, you shrugged and handed him the bottle. “Take care of yourself, or I’ll sic Carly on you,” you said nodding towards your friend, who was giving the Colonel and aggressive pep talk. Steve stretched and stood to his full height. 

“I dunno, you’ve done pretty well here.” With a small smile, he slipped out the side door, leaving you alone in front of the mirror. You shook your head, wondering why you were blushing, before heading over to your friend and patient on the other side of the room. 


	3. Extra, extra!

A few days later, you were sitting in the cafeteria picking the craisins out of your salad, one by one. Hidden behind the allergy free station and tucked beneath some stairs, you loved this spot because you were able to people watch without being noticed. Any other seat in the cafeteria guaranteed that you would spend your entire lunch break saying hello to acquaintances and exchanging banal small talk in between bites of your food. Some days, that was fine and you enjoyed the company. Other days, you didn’t relish the idea of such topical discussions. 

As you surveyed the room, you noticed a tall figure slip in through one of the side entrances. You watched Steve make a sweep of the room, looking chagrined at the idea of having to make chit chat with his hordes of fans. You dropped your eyes before you could make eye contact with him and felt a wave of sympathy for the man. A minute or so later, a shadow fell over you. Looking up, you smiled into his blue eyes. “That was fast,” you commented, trying to ignore the fluttering in your chest. He smiled back at you 

“I’m light on my feet.” He placed a hand on the back of the chair that sat across from you. “May I?” You nodded, swallowing your mouthful of food a little harder than intended. 

He set his tray of food down on the table and sat down. You noticed that he was sitting straighter than the last time you saw him, and saw no trace of bruises on the skin showing around his shirt. You smiled, guessing that a little rest and his super-serum had done the trick. Sipping your coffee, you watched him tuck into his food over the cup’s rim. His tray was piled high with various vegetables, fruits, meats, and a couple of sandwiches for good measure. The two of you sat in companionable silence for a while, until he looked up at you. “S’there something on my face?” he asked sheepishly. You blushed a little, but maintained eye contact. 

“No, I was just thinking that I never realized how much you guys all must have to eat. I mean, your metabolism must be so fast…” you paused. “No wonder this place has such a great cafeteria.” Down to his last slice of pizza, Steve quirked an eyebrow at you. You blushed outright. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to stare. I just…” you trailed off, unsure of how you were going to finish the sentence. Steve’s eyes crinkled in the corners as he smiled at you. “It’s fine! I had a couple of friends back in the day who were real science types like you. Couldn’t get anything by those guys. It’s like they stored everything they saw somewhere in their brains.” 

“I get that,” you nodded. “The only downside is, all of the observations push the important stuff out, like where I left my car keys.” The two of you laughed together, and after that, the conversation came easily.

Although the two of you weren’t exactly bearing your souls to each other, your conversation lacked the early awkwardness you had felt with other people. You were glad that Steve felt comfortable enough to share memories of his old friends with you, and you were grateful that your inquiring eye didn’t seem to fluster him. But your pleasant conversation came to a halt when the roar of an aircraft rumbled overhead. Seated by a window, you could just barely make out one of the bigger quinjets before it landed on a helipad somewhere above you on the roof. The large cafeteria suddenly filled with murmurs and barely contained excitement. Agents, techs, and researchers rose en masse in an attempt to leave the room as soon as possible. Steve looked around in confusion. “What’s happening?” His face had clouded over and you already missed his smile. Pulling your phone out of your pocket, you checked for updates. “That was headed for the executive pad. That means it’s probably Mr.Stark or maybe some of the other Avengers.” You thought that this would bring a smile back to Steve’s face, but it only darkened instead. “So they’re back,” he muttered to himself. Brows furrowed, he stood up abruptly. “I’d love to continue this, but I have to go find the rest of my team.” He grabbed his empty tray and the plastic crumpled a little in his tight grasp. Before he turned, Steve smiled at you for a brief second. “Thank you for eating with me, Y/N. It was a pleasure.” And with that, he was gone, striding across the cafeteria. 

You figured that you should probably go too, just in case Mr.Stark decided to stop by. As you cleared the table of your things, you came to the realization that Mr.Stark and the rest of the Avengers may have more to worry about than dropping in for a spot inspection. 

The news that the Avengers were officially back spread through the Avengers Facility like wildfire. You loved the excitement that filled the air and the barely concealed hope that everyone seemed to harbor about running into one of the famous heroes. But a tiny part of you was worried. You kept thinking back to the look on Steve’s face every time the Avengers came up. You also realized that he had arrived at the Avengers base alone, without any mention of his teammates. Once again, you wondered if there was something going on that the Avengers were hiding from the world. You sincerely hoped not though; the last time they hid their intentions, a lot of people got hurt along the way. 

 

You stopped by a newsstand on the way to work the next morning. The man who handed you your change nodded at the paper in your hand. “Crazy stuff, eh? Superheroes bein’ celebrities an’ all? No wonder they don’t have th’ time to save the world” You nodded politely and hurried away, thinking about at least one Avenger who seemed to prefer his work over stardom. You didn’t have time to read the paper until you were at work. Spreading it out over a lab bench, you hunkered down to read the news. According to “reputable sources” the entirety of the Avengers had just returned from a long diplomatic mission that had taken place on multiple continents. Despite rumors of injury and infighting, the team was together and stronger than ever. You sighed and chucked the paper into the recycling bin.


	4. Old Friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content note: descriptions of war, amputation, and amputees.

It had been two weeks since the Avengers had returned, and two weeks since you last heard from Steve. You tried to push down the unreasonable feelings of hurt and betrayal that you felt in his absence. You knew rationally that he was a busy man, being a super soldier on one of the world’s most elite teams and all, and that he wouldn’t have time to catch up with a lunch buddy. But you kept thinking back to the calm that seemed to wash over the two of you when you talked, and of the kindness in his eyes when he looked at you. You did your best not to mope, and left the facility on Friday with a sense of relief. You had the whole weekend to yourself, without any thoughts of blue eyes and a soft smile to distract you. 

Dumping your things on the bench next to your door, you kicked off your shoes and started flipping through your take out menus. You ignored the buzzing of your phone in favor of the Thai menu in your hands, but you were forced to take notice when someone knocked on your door. Dropping the menu on the counter, you swung your apartment door open. The man standing in front of you grinned. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were trying to avoid me, L/N.” 

You cried out and threw your arms around the man. “Mark! I was wondering when you’d come around!” Stepping back, you gestured inside. Mark stepped by you and headed straight for the menus on the counter. “Thai!” he said approvingly. “Maybe you  _ did  _ know I was coming.” 

You pulled your phone out and dismissed the missed calls from your friend’s number. “What’ll be? The usual?” Mark nodded, already going through your drawers in search of a bottle opener.

Once you had called in your food order, you turned to the man standing in your kitchen. He was a few inches taller than you and wore jeans and a tee-shirt that didn’t manage to cover the tattoos on his shoulders. His regulation cut had grown out a little, but you could always see his military training in the way he carried himself. 

“So what brings you to this part of the world, my friend? I thought that you were rubbing shoulders with all sorts of fancy people in Washington these days.” Mark smiled and took a swig of the beer that he had swiped from your fridge. “Well I’m in town for a thing, and I thought I’d stop by to see my favorite geek.” You grinned, but continued to rake your eyes over him, searching for the truth in his story. But he knew you as well as you knew him. “Okay,” he sighed in defeat. “I was also hoping that you’d take a look at my leg.” Your question answered, you nodded quickly. “Sure. Is the couch okay?” Mark shrugged, so you led him into your living room, grabbing your first aid kit on the way. Sitting in a chair directly opposite from the couch, you looked at him expectantly. “C’mon soldier.” Mark sat down on the couch and pulled his pant leg up. Snapping on a pair of nitrile gloves, you unhooked the bands holding Mark’s prosthesis to his leg and gently moved it away from his body. Setting it on the coffee table next to you, you asked “How’s everything feeling these days?” Mark sighed and began to peel the sock and gel liner off of his leg. “For the most part, good. I’ve been walking all over, even running sometimes. But the damn dress shoes I have to wear to formal events...Those suckers hurt like hell after an hour or so.”

“Just the left one, or both?” you asked. Mark grimaced.

“Both.” You nodded sympathetically and peered at your friend’s limb. 

About the time you decided to earn a graduate degree (or two) in prosthetic design and physical therapy, Mark, your best friend since high school, was deployed to Iraq. You sent him care packages monthly, filled with candy, batteries, and the occasional dirty magazine when you were willing to go to the trouble of buying them. In return, he sent you sporadic postcards to let you know he was still alive. As your studies intensified, Mark was accepted into the Special Forces and you heard even less from him. By the time you graduated, you were lucky to hear from his mother or brother, much less from the soldier himself. You lulled yourself into a false sense of complacency, hoping that no news was good news. 

You had just started working on the PT wing of Walter Reed when you finally found out what had become of your friend. Scanning the patient chart for your daily assignments, you noticed a familiar name about halfway down the list. Shaking, you spent the rest of your shift on edge, waiting until you could find out for sure. Once you had officially clocked out, you practically ran to the single occupancy room at the end of the hall, coming face to face with a frustrated occupational therapist on his way out. Sweating, you poked your head inside. 

You would never forget what Mark looked like sitting in that bed. Wearing a green Army shirt on top, and swaths of bandages on the bottom, your best friend didn’t even look up when you entered the room and shut the door behind you. You had to resist the urge to throw yourself into his arms. Instead, you sat gingerly on the edge of his bed and slowly pried the story out from between his chapped lips. 

Mark described the IED that sat beneath the floorboards of the abandoned house they were searching. Mark was third in line. The first two men had lost their lives, he only lost his legs, one at the knee and one just below it. He was a shell of his former, snarky self. He’d been resisting treatment, ignoring the therapists who came in to “shrink” him, and refusing to commit to the early stages of occupational and physical therapy. Those first few weeks were the hardest. His wounds, internal and external, were still fresh and all he could see was bleakness. But you were a bright eyed new physical therapist fresh from school, and you knew all the right buttons to push. Even though he wasn’t officially your patient, you spent every free moment with Mark that you could. You gave him his first civilian haircut (even though it was the same military style as always) after you had forced him to get off his ass and into a wheelchair. And you were the first one to take him to a bar, both in a chair and then on his prostheses, cheerfully sliding condoms across the table as women made eyes at him nearby. You even sat next to his mother in the audience, passing tissues to her as he received his medal of honor. 

To say that the two of you were close was an understatement. To say that you were a couple, well...the two of you had tried and failed, instead settling into a fierce friendship. 

 

You prodded at the inflamed spots on Mark’s stump and he sucked air between his teeth. “Sorry,” you said apologetically. Reaching into the kit, you pulled out a tube of hydrocortisone cream and liberally applied it to his leg. “I really think that you should try acupuncture…” you began as checked the rest of his stump. Mark scoffed. 

“I’m not trying any of that new age bullshit.” 

You tsked and pulled off your gloves once you’d finished.  “That ‘new age bullshit’ has worked for centuries, and I have the peer reviewed papers to prove it.” Mark shifted on the couch so he could reach his leg. 

“All I need is to get through this last event, and then I’m taking a break from all things formal or dress related. Speaking of which, would you wanna come to the Glory Gala with me?” You gaped at Mark, but just then there was a knock at your door and you could smell pad thai wafting into the room.

 

“This is about Bianca, isn’t it?” you accused around a mouthful of noodles. Mark feigned innocence. “What?! I would never…” he began. You waved your chopsticks at him. 

“You most certainly would. Things are getting serious and you’re afraid to ask her! So you’re bringing your sad sack of a scientist friend instead!”

Mark raised his hands in defeat.  “Okay, okay. Just put the chopsticks down and back away slowly!” he joked. Picking at his meal, the stoic soldier was suddenly contrite. “Things  _ are  _ getting serious, but this feels real, y’know? It feels so…”

“Spouse-y?” you finished. Mark nodded. You chewed thoughtfully on some peanuts. “Well,” you began. “As much as I like you, Bianca has really grown on me. I think that you’re just gonna have to suck it up and go with her.” Mark rolled his eyes, but you could tell that he was secretly relieved. 

“Just bring me home a doggy bag,” you instructed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is kind of a long tangent, but it's important for the plot. I'll get back to Cap soon!


	5. Returning a Favor

 

Mr.Stark finally sent over a list of additions to the exo-suit that the two of you were collaborating on, but you could tell that he was distracted. The code was full of errors and there were fallacies in the design that made them impossible to implement. Instead of bothering him, you got to work on fixing the errors and making the pieces useable. A new project had been transferred over to your lab from DARPA, so you were forced to work on the exo-suit in your free time. Although you were never much of a morning person, it often took all night for pieces to print, so you came in early in the morning tinker.

It was on one of those early mornings, as you hummed along to some music, that there was a tentative knock on your lab door. Pushing your safety goggles to the top of your head, you hopped off your stool and opened the door.

“Steve!” you tried to keep it cool, but it came out squeakier than you’d intended. “What’s up?” Steve scuffed his boot on the floor.

“I was in the area and figured you might be around. I thought you- well, _I_ could use the company.” Steve looked at you with pleading eyes. You stepped back, giving him entrance into your lab. “Come on in. Sorry about the mess.” You quickly moved to clear off a chair near one of the lab benches so he could sit. He looked around as you hastily stacked papers and pushed odds and ends into drawers. Finally, you moved towards the speakers to turn off the music you had been listening to. Steve spoke up. “Wait! I uh-I like this music. I actually used to listen to it back at home before the war.” You smiled and left the music on before sitting back down on your stool. Steve smiled wistfully. “I didn’t know people still listened to this.”

You grinned. “Billie Holiday? What’s not to love. I mean, I like other stuff too, but jazz is nice in the morning.” Steve leaned forward, putting his elbows on his knees.

Pulling the goggles off of your head, you scooted your chair closer to his. “Are you okay, Steve? I get the feeling that a lot is happening, but the public isn’t hearing about any of it.” Steve wilted a little and wearily ran his hands over his face.

“Everything’s gone to hell. The team’s split in half, a couple of us are just _gone,_ and Tony...I didn’t think that things could get this bad. And I don’t think they’re going to get any better. We’ve all been under review since Vienna, and I still don’t have my clearance back, so I can’t even go on missions. I just feel so damn powerless!” Your heart broke for him, and you wondered why he had picked you, of all people, to open up to. You could offer him no sage advice and had no strings to pull for him. You guessed that even with his reduced clearance, he still knew secrets that could get you in a lot of trouble. All you could do was listen. You waited silently for him to compose himself.

After a few long seconds, he looked up at you. “I’m sorry. I barely know you, I have no right to dump all of this on you. I don’t even know why I’m here.” He stood up abruptly, but you put a hand on his arm before he could turn away. “Everybody needs someone they can talk to, even super soldiers,” you said quietly. “My door’s always open, Steve.” You gave his arm a gentle squeeze. “And I think that we have a lot more in common than Billie Holiday.” Steve smiled sadly and left.

You resolved to keep a closer eye on the goings on within the Avengers base, especially now that you knew for sure that there was trouble. The dispatches from Mr.Stark stopped altogether, which was probably a good thing for you. The DARPA project timeline was moved up and everyone in your lab worked overtime to keep up. A week or so after Steve had stopped by again, one of the senior researchers called an impromptu meeting in one of the conference rooms. You and the other heads of labs filed into the room and gathered around the table as the senior researcher began to reprimand each of you for falling behind schedule. You listened in silence, face burning, when it came to your turn. When you were dismissed, you stalked down the hallway and ducked into the nearest empty room. Your head ached and your eyes burned with unshed tears. Constantly aware of the heightened expectations leveled at you because of your gender, you always tried your best not to cry at work. Massaging your temples, you slid down the wall to a seated position on the floor and tried to calm your breathing.

The door that you had shut behind you swung open and then closed. “Y/N?” someone asked cautiously. You froze, afraid to give yourself and your tears away. “Y/N, I saw you come in here and I figured I could return a favor.” Steve stepped around long table and knelt beside you. Head hidden in your hands, you could smell fresh coffee and the increasingly familiar scent of Steve’s aftershave. You looked up and swiped away the lone tear that had escaped from your eye. “You didn’t have to check up on me,” you said unhappily. Steve blushed.

“I was actually watching you from the offices on the top floor. I was planning on stopping by your lab again, but you got called away.” He held out the cup. “I wasn’t sure how you liked it.” You accepted the it and took a sip, buying yourself some time. “You were going to stop by again?” you repeated slowly. Steve moved so that he was sitting next to you against the wall.

“I thought that we could get lunch again, maybe have a lighter conversation than last time.” You sniffled and then scoffed.

“Not this time.” You could feel Steve chuckle where your shoulder met his.

“Someone once told me that everyone needs someone to talk to.” You smiled down at the coffee in your hands. “That someone sounds pretty smart.” Noticing your smile, Steve’s face lit up in triumph. “She sure is,” he agreed.

 

Steve soon made it a habit to stop by your lab at the start of your midday break. The two of you would make your way down to the cafeteria and have lunch together. The route the two of you took wound through back hallways and directly to the corner of huge lunchroom so that you could eat in relative privacy. You both had good days and bad ones, proving that Steve was as human as you. You’d listen to his reviews of his latest pop culture exploits, while he did his best to keep up with your descriptions of your research.  You could tell that he was still hiding pain behind a facade of strength and stoicism, but you hid your own pain too. Despite this, you grew a little closer every day. Even though he spent hours in debriefs, working to earn back trust and his clearance, he eventually began waiting for you in the evenings to walk you out to your car.

On a particularly tough day for the two of you, you’d walked outside into the evening air in a brooding silence. You were struggling to muster the enthusiasm for a warmer goodbye, when Steve spoke up first. “There’s always tomorrow.” His eyes were kind and warm and without thinking, you threw your arms around his neck. Almost instinctively, his large arms closed around you and he buried his nose in your neck. The two of you stood, connected, for several long moments before stepping back. You wondered if you should feel more embarrassed, but the look on his face was anything but. He looked at you with wonder and growing joy and something else you hadn’t seen before. You opened your car door, unwilling to let things get awkward. “G’night, Steve,” you said softly. Shutting the door behind you, he stepped back. “See you in the morning, Y/N.”


	6. Assembled

You didn’t see Steve at all the next day. You did your best not to overthink it. You barely had time to think about anything as you worked alongside your lab staff, pouring over schematics and making minute adjustments to electronics, but your worried mind still managed to sneak a thought or two about a certain tall blonde with kind eyes. By the end of the day, you were exhausted. You managed to drag yourself out of the lab and towards the parking lot. You were midway through the lobby when you heard your name being called out. Startled, you looked around for the voice echoing through the huge room. Finally able to pinpoint it, you found Steve standing on the one of the balconies upstairs. Taking the stairs three or four at a time, he was at your side in less than a minute. 

You smiled, relieved and confused to see him. His eyes were shining and he moved like he had a purpose. “They approved my clearance again! I’m back!” Despite your exhaustion, his joy was infectious. You laughed as he picked you up in a bear hug. “I wouldn’tve made it without you,” he said seriously as he lowered you back down to the floor. “Thank you for...everything.”

You looked up into his face, at the flush in his cheeks and his slightly mussed hair. He was in his civvies now, but you knew that he would suiting up and heading back out into the world as Captain America. As happy as you were for him, you were a little bit sad too. You already missed the time you two had spent together. 

Steve reached down and took your hand. “Listen, me and some of the team are going out. Drinks are on Clint. You wanna come celebrate with us?” You genuinely wanted to, you wanted to soak in every second you could with this man, but you were practically asleep on your feet. You were about to answer when a chorus of calls and footsteps began to rain down the stairs and landings above you. The rest of the Avengers were obviously ready to go, and here you were, about to turn down a night out with them. Ignoring them, Steve tugged you to a spot against a wall. Now the two of you were well out of the team’s line of sight, and knowing Steve, probably in the security cameras’ blind spots too. 

“I’m sorry to spring all of this on you, Y/N,” he apologized. “All I did today was sit in a conference room while you’ve been on your feet in the lab all day.” Still holding your hand in his, he pulled you closer to him. Still a little shocked and more than a little exhausted, you leaned into his broad, warm chest and felt him speak to you. “You go home and get some sleep. I’ll take you out on another night.” You frowned into his pectorals, suddenly petulant. 

“You promise? You won’t go away and forget all about me?” You hadn’t meant to voice that particular worry of yours and you regretted the words as soon as they left your tired mouth. His chest rumbled against your face and Steve tipped your chin up so you were looking at him. “I would  _ never _ .” Grinning, he bent and kissed you, sliding his free hand around to your back while continuing to clutch your other one. 

All traces of sleepiness gone, every nerve in your body was buzzing. You could feel the pads of Steve’s fingers through the fabric of your blouse. You were acutely aware of the softness of his lips and the heat created by his heightened metabolism that radiated between your two bodies. You wrapped your free arm around his waist and pulled him tighter to you. Some,  _ very  _ distant part of your brain was aware that you the two of you were standing in the middle of the Avengers Facility lobby, and that any number of your superiors could walk in and see you in an extremely unprofessional situation. But that was mostly static. You sighed happily and Steve took the opportunity to slide his tongue between your lips. Steve had just released your hand in favor of squeezing your waist and moving steadily southward, when-

“ROGERS!” somebody bellowed. You jumped guiltily, but Steve didn’t let go of you. Sighing, he looked up and shook his head. “Clint...nice guy, but he has the  _ worst  _ timing.” He looked down and kissed you once more before releasing you. The separation was almost painful. “I’ll walk you to your car and then-” he began, but you shook your head. 

“That’s very chivalrous of you, but I’ll be okay. Go have fun with the rest of the team before they come and drag you out of here. Just…” you didn’t know how to say it. You wanted to keep showing him how you felt. “-I won’t. I promise,” Steve finished. You smiled and walked outside while Steve dashed back up the stairs. 

You drove home in a daze. You probably should have slept on the couch in your office after the day (and evening) that you just experienced, but it was a relief to fall into your own bed. You were asleep before your head hit the pillow. 

Your dreams that night were confusing. You dreamt of algorithms and talking animals, of printing a piece that never finished. But you also dreamt of him. Steve appeared, pressing his body against yours, a feeling that was now a memory, no longer a fantasy. In your dream, there was no call, no interruptions. His hands moved across your body and yours across his. Your bodies moved together in a synchrony, moving towards release. Your back arched, all of your senses filled with Steve and-

You sat bolt upright in bed, heart racing and body throbbing. You sat for a moment, confused, before reaching over and turning off your alarm. 

You took a long, cold shower that morning, almost afraid to acknowledge last night’s dream and all of the feelings it had stirred up. Your first appointment of the morning was PT with Carly and Colonel Rhodes. But when you got to the gym, only your friend was there waiting for you. “Am I early?” you asked, looking around. Carly shook her head.

“Nope! The team got called in and Colonel Rhodes went with them. War Machine and all…” Carly looked down at her tablet. “Well! My morning is clear now, do you want to grab breakfast?” she asked happily. Your heart sank through your stomach and the thought of putting food on top of it was the farthest thing from your mind. “No thanks, Carly. I have to go put some more time in with the latest project.” You walked back to your lab on autopilot. You gave your techs directions before sitting down at your desk. You checked all of the news feeds for news about the Avengers, but there was nothing. You set news alerts for all of their names and did your best to push Steve from your mind, yet again. Lunch time came and went and you stayed in your lab, tweaking the DARPA project while everyone else left to eat. By the end of the day, you had caught up on all of the project’s modifications and worked yourself into a panic about Steve and the rest of his team. You dismissed everyone for the day and went to work cleaning up the lab. Your phone buzzed at around 10:30pm. Distracted, you picked it up and unlocked it. Notifications from several major news sites filled your screen. You had almost forgotten about the alerts. Opening the first link, you clenched your jaw when you saw the photo at the top of the page. 

It was blurry, but Iron Man’s crimson suit and the Hulk’s green form were unmistakable. And up in the right hand corner, legs braced against an onslaught from the enemy, was Captain America. Scrolling past the photo because you knew that it would be burned into your mind forever, you read the accompanying news release. The Avengers were spotted in the mountains of Argentina. Although there was no officially sanctioned report, there were rumors that there was a Hydra base situated deep in the mountains. It was there that the Avengers were supposedly searching for remnants of Hydra projects and files on their agents’ whereabouts. A previously secret group of soldiers loyal to Hydra had appeared to defend the historic base. Although there were images of the battle, there was no information about the final outcome of the fight. 

You did your best to stay calm and think rationally. All you wanted to do was run upstairs and beg for information about the battle, but to the rest of S.H.I.E.L.D. you were just a lowly researcher with no claim to information about the Avengers. You figured that it would take at least a day for the team to finish up and return home. Keeping this in mind, you forced yourself to go home and to bed, knowing that all you could do was wait. You hoped that you’d come in the next morning to good news. 

You dreamed of Steve again that night, but it was nothing like before. You had no knowledge of what he was like in the outside world, on the battlefield. You’d seen the aftermath, the bruises that painted his back with painful strokes of black and blue. And you had one image of him in battle, legs planted, shoulders pressing up against his shield. The rest was left to your mind to fill in, resulting in blurry, bloody images interrupted by blind spots where all you smelled was blood and smoke. It was suffocating. You remembered the last time you had felt this powerless, when Mark was gone and information was sparse. You’d seen what the world could do to a person, no matter how strong or how skilled. 


	7. Waiting Game

Another day came and went without any public news about the fate of the Avengers. You snuck upstairs and did your best to get a look at the operations headquarters. It was abuzz with activity. Agents and analysts were moving throughout the rooms, speaking into earpieces and passing briefs to each other. At least someone knew something, you thought. Even though it was Friday night, you decided against going home. Instead, you camped out in an empty conference room where you could see at least some of the goings on in the intelligence sector. You dozed lightly on and off through much of the night. When you were awake, you would check for news alerts and stick your head into the hallway for a better view of upstairs. At one point, late into the night, you were awoken by a distant rumble. Angling your head, you realized that it was the sound of a quinjet landing on the roof. You shot to your feet, your heart in your throat. Realizing that you had nowhere near the clearance level required to grant you access to the operations offices, you did your best to relieve the nervous energy coursing through your body by pacing the length of the conference room.

Almost an hour later, people began to emerge from upstairs. You watched as agents and analysts filed out of the operations sector and headed home. You stood awkwardly in the hallway, unsure of what to do next. The purpose that had motivated you thus far wouldn’t be able to get you in to see Steve.

You heard a stream of familiar voices getting closer to you. Stepping back into the conference room, you did your best to look nonchalant as you leaned against the table and pretended to check your phone. You didn’t have much experience with spies or secret agents, so you weren’t sure if they would ignore you altogether or if they’d immediately clock you as awkward and suspicious. You waited, frozen, as a herd of people passed by your spot. Many of them were clothed in black and had earpieces in. You figured they were agents and soldiers. Somewhere in the middle of all of the black uniforms, you recognized Mr.Stark’s voice from interviews and Clint’s voice from just a few days ago. After the group had passed, your heart sank. No sign of him. You stood and began to collect your things.

“Y/N?” someone asked in surprise. You looked up. Two men were waiting in the hallway. You froze when you saw Steve, the flood of emotions momentarily stunning you. Steve clapped the other man on the shoulder. “I’ll catch up with you in a bit, Sam,” he said quietly. The other man looked at the two of you and then nodded and kept going.

Steve moved towards you cautiously, and you knew that your face must have been betraying every emotion you were feeling. You looked him up and down. He was still in his tactical gear. It was reminiscent of his original uniform, but the colors were darker. The material was torn and shredded in some areas, and the cuts beneath oozed blood onto the fabric and leather. His infamous shield was somehow strapped to his back and his helmet dangled from his hand. His face was bruised and covered in dirt, but his eyes were bright and alert beneath all of the grime. A strangled sound left your throat and Steve let his helmet fall to the floor. “You’re okay,” you cried as you launched yourself into his arms. There was no wonder this time, no lust or joy. You couldn’t identify exactly how you were feeling and in the moment, you didn’t exactly want to.

Steve held you against his chest and ran a gloved hand gently through your hair. “Shhh,” he murmured. “I’m alright, doll. I’m fine.” You dug your fingers into his suit and tightened your arms around his ribcage. He smelled like smoke and sweat and blood, but beneath your arms, his breathing was normal and he didn’t falter at your sudden charge. Still holding on to him, you leaned back to look him in the eyes. It finally began to set in: he was okay. You cupped his face in your hands. “I was worried,” you said simply. He smiled tiredly at you and nodded. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you what was happening. It all happened so quickly and it wasn’t supposed to go down like this…” he began. You shook your head.   
“You don’t have to explain anything to me. You don’t owe me that. It’s just…” This time, you were the one to initiate the kiss. It was as passionate as the first, but lacked the drama and the sparks. Instead, it was filled with relief and frustration and exhaustion. When your lips finally broke apart, Steve bent his head to lean against yours. He inhaled deeply and sagged. You rubbed his shoulders. “You must be exhausted,” you whispered. He nodded. “Go home. Get some sleep,” you replied. You couldn’t believe that you were, once again, ordering this man out of your arms. But he had found his way back to you before.

Steve nodded again and stepped away from you. “What’re you doing tomorrow?” he asked.

You had to stop and think about that one. “Uhm, nothing in particular, I think. Why?” Steve still hadn’t release you.

“Let’s meet up tomorrow. We can go to the park or get coffee, or whatever you want.” His eyes were pleading. You nodded. “Good. I have another debrief until noon, but then I’m all yours.” The two of you agreed on a meeting time and place before walking outside. You were loathe to watch him leave.

 

You slept like the dead, grateful for a dreamless sleep. After showering and eating a light breakfast, you set out for the meeting spot you had agreed on with Steve. Sitting in the shade of an oak tree, you watched the hustle and bustle of the city. “S’beautiful, isn’t?” Steve asked. You jumped and swore, turning to find Steve leaning against the tree. “Jeez, Steve! Give a girl a little warning, will ya?” You waited for your heart to stop racing and Steve grinned at you, which didn’t help at all. You smiled back and looked him up and down. “I’m fine, honest,” he said, noticing your inspection.

And he did seem fine. He had obviously slept and showered since last night. Back in normal street clothes, there was no sign of the battle had been a part of. With his baseball cap on, he could have been any other ordinary guy, albeit an unnaturally muscular one, out for a walk. Steve sat down on the ground next to you. Wanting to look him in the eyes, you scooted around so that you were facing him. Now that you were both here, and he was safe you weren’t sure what to say. You weren’t sure what you had the right to say. Luckily, Steve seemed to have some things to say himself.

“It was nice to see you last night,” he began slowly. “I, I’ve never had anyone waiting at home for me before. So I guess I never had to think about what it would be like to wait.” You nodded and swallowed hard. “Normally, analysts can alert spouses or...whatever- about sudden missions. No details or anything, just that the team got called away. I should have thought to have someone tell you. It’s just...we…” he trailed off.

You fiddled with a stray fiber on your jeans. “It’s okay, Steve. You don’t have to explain anything to me. And you don’t even have my number or anything. You don’t have to tell me your every move.”

Steve placed a hand on your knee and you looked back up at him. “You mean a lot to me. And I mean a lot to you.” It wasn’t a question, but you nodded anyway. “I haven’t really done this in, oh...seventy five years, so correct me if I’m wrong,” he began. “But when a pretty girl kisses you back and then waits up for you after a mission, I think you’re s’posed to do something about that.”

It was your turn to grin and his to blush and fiddle with something. “Like what?”

He shrugged. “I dunno, take her on an actual date. Get ‘er number,” he took your hand.

“Steve,” you asked teasingly. “Are you asking me to be your girl?” Steve returned your grin and leaned forward. “Yeah, if you’ll have me.”

Sitting under a tree in a park, you kissed Steve Rogers. Although the two of you could have happily kissed all day, neither of you were keen on being outed by the media. Tugging his hat down, Steve stood and the two of you walked around the park. You listened raptly as he told you as much as he could about his last mission. You described the days leading up to your late night meeting and he reached over to squeeze your hand when you explained the familiar feelings of helplessness that you had felt. “I won’t ever leave you in the dark again,” he promised. You bumped your shoulder against his. “I’d better give you my number then.”

“You’re right.” He nodded seriously. “But you’ll have to do it. I’m not very familiar with this thing,” he said as he handed his phone over to you. It was clearly a Stark smartphone, in pristine condition. You wondered if the case was made of some kind of bulletproof material, but after you watched Steve unlock it, you could tell that he didn’t use it often. He watched you closely as you opened his contacts and added your name, number, and address. “My team has a habit of just showing up when they need me. I don’t talk on the phone much.” You nodded absently as you texted your phone from his so that you had his number. “Well, I’ll do my best, but I don’t have the special ops training that it takes to get ahold of you sometimes.” Steve took his phone back and chuckled at the emoji you had just texted him. “I’ll figure this thing out for you,” he promised.

By then, the two of you had made it to where your car was parked. “Listen,” he began. “During the debrief this morning, the brass decided that we need more positive, planned publicity. So they’re making us go to this...thing,” Steve pulled a card out of his pocket. It was made of stiff, cream colored paper and the gold embossed lettering glinted in the sunlight. “They’re calling it the-”

“Glory Gala,” you finished. Steve nodded and offered you the invitation.

“So you’ve heard of it. Would you be willing to be my date?” Even though he had just returned from a life threatening mission and the two of you had just discussed some of your deepest fears, Steve still looked terrified. You handed the invitation back to him. “Steve Rogers, I would be honored to be your date.” Steve practically deflated with relief. “I’ll see you before then though, right?”

He nodded. “Of course. Lunch on Monday?” You smiled and stood on your tiptoes to give him a peck on the cheek.

“Lunch on Monday!” you confirmed.


	8. Montage Time

On Monday, following your last meeting, you practically ran to the PT gym. Breathlessly, you made your way to Carly’s office. Carly looked up from her paperwork as you leaned against the doorjam panting. “Everything alright there, champ?” she asked. You nodded and gasped for breath, making a mental note to start up jogging again. “I need your help with-” you plopped down on the only available seating in Carly’s office-a yoga ball. “-a dress,” you finished. Carly raised an eyebrow. “That’s it? That seems like it would warrant a brisk walk, at best.” You bounced up and down on the ball. “A  _ gala  _ dress,” you specified. “And soon. I need it for this weekend.” Carly put down her pen and leaned forward. 

“The only thing happening this weekend is the Glory Gala. And the Glory Gala is an invite-only, fanciest underwear kind of situation.” She looked at you accusingly. “What did you do?” You blushed. Carly shook her head. 

“Y/N, you’ve been complaining about Mark not taking Bianca to events for  _ months!  _ Why would you-” You cut her off. 

“I’m not going with Mark.” Now Carly was  _ really  _ interested. 

“Well the Glory Gala’s for politicians, big donors, and soldiers with medals. So which one are you getting all hot and bothered over?” You frowned and stopped bouncing. 

“I’m not hot and bothered,” you protested hotly. Carly laughed. 

“Well, you’re certainly something. Come on, out with it. Who’s the lucky guy?” You bit your lip, suddenly shy. You hadn’t talked with Steve about going public yet, but he  _ was  _ taking to you a highly publicized event. If you couldn’t tell your best friend, who could you tell? “His name’s Steve.” Carly nodded, pressing you for more info.

“And what did this ‘Steve’ do to get an invite to the Glory Gala?”

You laughed at the absurdity of the question. “Well, he helped win the second World War, for starters.” There was a muffled bang as Carly slipped off of her yoga ball. Pulling herself up off of the floor, she gaped at you. “You’re dating Captain America?!” she shouted. You shushed her and closed her office door. 

“Keep it down!” you hissed. “Maybe people in Vermont didn’t hear that.” Carly steadied herself on the large purple ball. “Don’t lie to me, Y/N.” 

“Why would I lie to you about something like this?” you demanded. “Are you going to help me find a dress, or not?” Carly looked at you for a long moment and then nodded. 

“Yes. We’re going shopping this Wednesday. Clear your schedule.” You smiled, knowing that Carly would whip you into shape in no time. 

Wednesday afternoon, after you had given everyone in the lab their tasks, Carly stopped by your lab and whisked you away. When she showed you the gatorade and power bars that she had grabbed from the gym fridge, you knew you were in for a long evening. Carly dragged you from shop to shop, doing a quick scan before deeming it worthy or not of your valuable shopping time. 

She may have been intense about shopping, but she was also a great cheerleader. She stationed herself outside of your changing room and gasped with glee every time you emerged with a new dress. She had something good to say about all of them, even the ones you didn’t like. 

Three hours and seven stores later, you were taking longer in the changing room than usual. “Y/N?” called Carly “are you okay in there? Just come out and show me.” You took a deep breath and pushed the curtain back so that Carly could see you. 

Carly gasped and her eyes lit up. “It’s beautiful, Y/N. Do you like it?” You looked down at your form, smoothing your hands over the blue fabric that sheathed your body. The column dress clung to your torso, leaving one shoulder exposed, before falling down to the floor. Carly motioned for you to spin, and you did, revealing the cut out over the small of your back. It was simple and elegant. Carly stepped up to you and ran her fingers along the soft fabric. “What color is this?”

“Peacock blue,” you answered suddenly worried. “It’s not too...patriotic, is it?” 

Carly shook her head. “It’s wonderful! Very subtle, but still a nod to  _ his  _ uniform,” Carly wiggled her eyebrows suggestively when she alluded to your date. You blushed and went back into the changing room, hoping that Steve would like it as much as you did. 

You left for the capital early Saturday morning, with your dress and a few other things in tow. Carly waved at you from her car as you walked into the airport. She made you promise to send her hourly updates and gave you a tight hug before you left. “He may be a superhero, but he’s damn lucky to have you,” she said. You shook your head and headed for your terminal. 

You were flipping through an engineering journal when your phone buzzed from your pocket. You grinned when you saw who the text was from. 


	9. Glory Be

“Y/N,” it began formally. “I can’t wait to see you tonight. It’s been a heck of a week and I don’t normally like these kind of things, but you make it all worth it.” 

 

Steve ended the text with a smiley face emoji. You sent back a reply message and ended yours with a blue heart, hoping it wasn’t too forward. You didn’t have much time to worry about it before the plane began its descent. Being back in D.C. felt surreal. You’d been recruited to work for S.H.I.E.L.D. when you were working at Walter Reed; you went from government bureaucracy to top secret projects and facilities. You felt oddly divorced from the government spaces where you had spent so much of your time, especially now that you knew the government’s relationship with Steve and the rest of his team. Nevertheless, it felt good to be back in your old city. You were especially excited about the location of the gala. 

Showing your ID and the guest code for the event, you held still as the security guard waved a wand over your body. Nodding, he waved you through. Walking across the stone floors and into the dimly lit exhibit halls held so much more meaning than the last time you had been here. The National Museum of American History had been one of your favorite haunts when you lived in the area. You used to sit in the theaters and watch the films about American soldiers. With Mark gone and as you worked with dozens of wounded vets, it was a sobering yet hopeful reminder that the good guys had won before, and hopefully would win again. You’d walk out of the darkened room in a bit of a daze, buoyed along by throngs of museum goers. You usually ended up in a corner of the Howling Commandos exhibit. The main part of the exhibit, the one that showed Steve and his team’s faces along with their uniforms and biographies was always too crowded to approach. So you would sit on a small bench tucked into the corner next to a case that held Steve’s first bicycle and some of the things he had apparently played with as a child. It was empty enough to allow you to exhale as you examined the items from Captain America’s childhood. 

But tonight, the halls were devoid of running children and fans wearing star spangled shirts. Instead, the sounds of high heels echoed through the rooms and everyone spoke in low tones as they wandered through the exhibits in black tie attire. Smiling, you found your bench and sat, waiting for your date. 

You knew immediately when the Avengers had arrived. The ebb and flow of guests suddenly stopped and everyone headed toward the main exhibit. The room was filled with murmurs and flashes as the main doors opened and the team filed in. 

Tony Stark came first, of course. He was in a black suit with black pinstripes that were only visible when the light hit them just right. He pulled off his Ray Bans and casually handed them to a random woman standing nearby, who proceeded to squeal excitedly. Colonel Rhodes came next, wearing the exo-suit you had helped design. His gait was smooth and if you hadn’t built the hardware yourself, you never would have known what sat hidden beneath his pant legs. Natasha Romanoff was wearing a figure-hugging black dress with slits up the sides. The man walking next to her, who you guessed was Clint Barton, nudged her with an elbow. Shooting him a dirty look, Natasha smiled sweetly in the direction of the cameras. You recognized one of the men from the night Steve returned from Argentina. Sam Wilson was wearing a black suit, but his white shirt underneath was unbuttoned at the top and missing a bowtie. Steve was the last one into the room, but he received much of the fanfare. Journalists and photographers called out to him, directing him to stand in front of the exhibits emblazoned with his name and photograph. He smiled and posed, but you could tell that he was deeply uncomfortable. Looking at the rest of his team, you noticed Mr.Stark checking his phone with a frown. The rest of the team didn’t seem to mind, and even stepped in to pose with Steve. 

It took fifteen minutes for the hubbub to die down enough for the Avengers to make their way into the museum proper. Suddenly shy, you hugged the margins of the room. You wandered over to a small case that held a set of dog tags, stamped with Steve’s name and ID number. 

“Those aren’t the real ones, ya know,” someone commented from behind you. You jumped and turned to find Steve. “Hey there,” you said as you turned to face him. Steve just looked at you. For a long time. Eventually, you began to fidget under his gaze. “Is it too much?” you babbled. “It’s too much, isn’t it? I can leave through the same door, that way no one will-” Steve stepped forward and put a hand on your hip. “It’s beautiful.  _ You’re  _ beautiful.” You sagged as much as you could in your tight dress. “Really?” Steve offered you his arm.

“Really,” he confirmed. You took his arm. 

“I’m glad you like it. I’ll admit, I was a little bit nervous.” You paused. “I still am.” Steve shifted his arm so that he could wrap it around your waist. It was more casual than before, but also more comforting. “I still get nervous at these things too,” he admitted. “Are you ready? Just let me know if it gets to be too much.” You nodded and followed his lead out into the crowd of people. “What were you saying about your dog tags?” you asked, your mouth suddenly dry. Steve deftly maneuvered the two of you towards the rest of the Avengers, keeping an arm around you the entire time. “Oh, just that those were never mine. Reproductions. I still have my old ones. Both pairs actually,” Steve nodded politely at various politicians but continued to steer you both resolutely towards his team. “My first ones, from when I first enlisted were uh, a little tight after the serum. But I still have em. I was gonna give them to Peggy but I never got the chance,” Steve trailed off. You leaned into him. He looked at you and nodded silently. 


	10. Meet the Family

By the time the two of you reached the table where the rest of the Avengers sat, you had calmed down a little. Steve pulled you close to his body and the two of you waited for a lull in the conversation. Natasha was the first to notice, but she simply sat and watched the scene unfold. The conversation didn’t seem to be moving toward a stopping point, so Steve cleared his throat, but Mr.Stark beat him to it. 

“Who’s this?” he asked giving you the once over. Everyone else stopped talking and looked over at you. You blushed and felt your calm slip away. Fanning his fingers over your hip, Steve looked down at you as he made the introductions. “Tony, everyone, this is Y/F/N, Y/L/N. I figured this would be the best time to introduce her, seeing as everyone has to be on their best behavior tonight anyways. Y/N, this is the team.” He nodded toward each person as he introduced them. “Sam, Clint, N’tasha, Rhodey, and-” 

“Tony. It’s funny, I haven’t heard of you, yet you’ve been dating our dear captain here for a while?” Steve’s fingers tightened on your hip. You placed a hand over his before offering it to Tony. “Actually, Mr.Stark, you have heard of me. I’ve been applying all of your modifications to Colonel Rhodes’ exo-suit.” You nodded at Rhodey who waved back in recognition. “I feel like we’re almost partners,” you continued. “Especially since I’ve had to fix so much of your code and replace it with my own. It’s like I already know you.” You heard several huffs of laughter from Sam’s side of the table and you could feel Steve smiling next to you. 

A glint had appeared in Tony’s eyes as you were speaking and he grasped your outstretched hand when you finished. “And now it’s hard to believe I’d ever forgotten you.” Tony sat back down and gestured grandly at the table. “C’mon Cap, be a gentleman and find a seat for your lady.” With Tony’s unspoken approval, the table seemed to exhale and everyone relaxed back into their seats. Steve found his name card and pulled the chair next to it out for you. He leaned down and brushed his lips against your temple as he pushed your chair. Everyone had gone back to talking, but Sam turned to you and Steve. “So  this  is the girl you’ve been talking about?” he began. Steve blushed and sputtered. 

“Well, I dunno if talking is the right word…” 

Sam cracked up and clapped Steve on the back. “No no, you’re right. He’s been asking for advice for  _ weeks. _ Luckily he came to the right man.” You turned to Steve and raised an eyebrow. Steve was scarlet.

“Now I’m not so sure,” he muttered. You chuckled along with Sam, glad that he had Steve’s back. 

You listened to the conversations around you, offering a comment here and there, but you were mostly happy to sit and watch Steve spend time with his family. Tony’s sarcasm bit, but his charm made people forgive him. Rhodey was good natured as always as he put up with his best friend’s sharp tongue. Natasha and Clint seemed to be joined at the hip. You wanted to be friends with her, but you were immediately intimidated by the weirdly serene sense of danger that she emanated. A little while later though, you watched her soften when Clint pulled out his phone to show the group pictures of little Nathaniel playing with his siblings. Altogether, the group seemed to exude confidence and unity, but sitting among them, you could tell that something, or someone was missing. Going through the roster in your mind, you added Vision, Wanda, Dr.Banner, and Thor to your list. The hollowness you felt was why Steve still hid sadness behind his eyes. 

“You doing okay?” Steve murmured into your ear. You nodded and bumped your knee against his under the table. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?” 

He snorted quietly. “Speak for yourself. But you handled Tony really well. He respects that kind of thing.” You fiddled with the blank name card that was in front of your seat, wishing that you could pull Steve into your arms. Instead, you sat politely by as he greeted the various generals and politicians who stopped by the table. You could always tell the brass from the soldiers when they came up to speak with the Avengers. Sam, Rhodey, and Steve all made various puffed up governors and a couple of celebrities wait their turn so that they could speak to each soldier. You were chatting with a corporal about the Howling Commandos exhibit when you heard your name. “Y/N?” someone said incredulously.


	11. Dim the Lights

You turned toward the speaker and smiled. “Oh, hi Mark!” Mark and Bianca had approached your table. Bianca gave you a little wave, which you happily returned. Mark, on the other hand, was still processing. “I thought you weren’t going to this,” he accused. 

You rolled your eyes. “I said I wasn’t going with  _ you _ ,” you specified. 

Steve appeared at your side, having noticed the sudden tension. “Everything okay, doll?” he asked pointedly. Bianca’s jaw dropped and Mark was speechless. “Everything’s fine,” you chirped. “This is my friend Mark and his girlfriend, Bianca.” Steve graciously shook Bianca’s hand before turning to Mark. “I’ve heard a lot about you,” he said seriously. “Thank you for your service.” Mark gaped for another second before speaking. “I uh- thank  _ you  _ for your service, captain.” You grinned; it was rare to see Mark at a loss for words.

“Captain Rogers! I’m with the Times, can we trouble you for a photo?” someone called. Steve nodded at your little group and turned away. Mark sat heavily in your empty chair, while you and Bianca sat on either side. “Why didn’t you tell me you knew Captain America?” he hissed.

You shrugged. “We were taking things slow. I didn’t tell anyone, even Carly, if it’s any consolation.” 

Mark’s head shot up. ‘Wait, you two are  _ dating?!”  _ Now you were uncomfortable. Maybe introducing your (very distant) ex to your very famous boyfriend while said ex’s girlfriend stood by wasn’t the best idea. “It’s no big deal,” you snapped quietly, all evidence to the contrary. Luckily an event staff member interrupted before things got any worse. “Mark? We’re prepping for the speeches, if you’d like to come get ready.” 

Mark nodded and stood. “Can we talk later?” he asked you. You nodded.

“Of course. Just let me know.” As Mark was whisked away, Bianca moved so that she was sitting next to you. You noticed Natasha and Tony both watching you before Bianca put her hand on your knee. You turned towards the woman and smiled. “I’m sorry. I pictured introductions like this going a lot smoother.” Bianca smiled, but it was unsure. 

“Do I need to be worried?” she asked softly. 

You sat back like you had been slapped. You thought that you two had already worked all of this out. “Of course not. Mark and I didn’t work out for, well a lot of reasons. He’s happier with you than he has been in a long time. Why would you ask something like that?” you said, hurt. 

Bianca blinked rapidly, and put a finger up to make sure that her mascara was still in place. “You two have decades of history. I always figured that you’d just be a constant presence in our life, and I think he has too.” 

You raised an eyebrow. “So you think he’s mad that I won’t be your third wheel anymore?” 

Bianca laughed wetly. “I don’t know what to think. I know that he hurt you when you guys were younger, and that you’ve always been there for him, and us.” 

You inhaled deeply, trying to tamp down the hurt and anger that had flooded your chest. “And I will always be there for you. But I’m not going to stay single and on call 24/7 for blisters just to appease his ego.” Your voice had an edge to it that you knew you would regret later. But it seemed to reassure Bianca. 

She sat up a little straighter and took your hand in hers. “You’re right. You deserve to be happy and I had no right to be threatened. Mark has just been a little off lately and I’m worried.” You both looked up as the lights flickered twice, signalling everyone to move toward the stage. You squeezed Bianca’s hand. “I think it’s a good kind of off, not the ‘I have another family’ kind. He’s not huge on change, even when it’s for the better.” You hoped you hadn’t given too much away, but the understanding and relief in Bianca’s eyes told you all you needed to know. She nodded and left to go find her seat. 

Steve reappeared and the two of you walked toward the reserved seats together. “Did that end up okay?” he asked tentatively. You laughed tiredly. 

“I think so. Sometimes I forget that I have a whole closet full of baggage.”

Steve chuckled and settled down in the seat next to you. “At least yours is from the past fifty years,” he commented wryly. 

As the lights dimmed, Steve reached over and held your hand. He ran his thumb gently over your skin and you relaxed for the first time in hours. 

Everyone listened to the speeches given by the hosts of the event, a general, and finally by Mark himself. Despite what happened earlier, your heart swelled with pride and you hoped that his story would encourage people to donate to the VA hospital. After the speeches and applause had ended, one of the hosts stood and announced that they would be showing the annual remembrance video. The video began before the lights could dim further, and Peggy’s face was the first on the screen. 

You looked over at Steve, who sat, stricken. You knew that her funeral had happened just before the events in Vienna, and that Steve was still processing her death. You never felt jealousy towards the woman, but rather a deep respect and you mourned Steve’s loss. Once darkness had covered the room, you risked resting your head on his shoulder. He took a shuddering breath and squeezed your hand a little bit tighter. You were leaning over to ask him if he was okay when the lights and the video on the screen went completely dark. 


	12. Shock and Awe

Most of the audience seemed to think it was part of the presentation, but you could tell by the nervous motion at the edges of the room that this was unplanned. You could hear Tony speaking rapidly into his phone while Steve tensed beside you. Suddenly, there was a bang and a commotion on the other side of the room. Your vision went white for several seconds and your ears began to ring. By the time someone managed to turn the lights back on, the room had descended into chaos. Your ears rang, but you could tell people were screaming. The opposite side of the room, where the speakers had been seated, had descended into chaos. Clouds of smoke covered the area and people were running or crawling down the aisles. Ears still ringing, you turned towards Steve and the rest of the team. Tony was fiddling with his watch and speaking into an earpiece when the Iron Man suit seemed to erupt out of thin air. Clint had disappeared into the commotion while Natasha pulled two guns out from somewhere beneath her dress. Rhodey and Sam began to direct guests towards the nearest exits. Despite the commotion, Steve only had eyes for you. He put his hands on your shoulders and bent to speak to you. You could see his mouth moving, but you couldn’t make out what he was saying. But you could guess what message he was trying to send. “I’m okay,” you shouted. “We need to help all of these people!” You deduced that Steve could hear just fine, or at least read lips, because he immediately became stern. “I’m fine,” you insisted. “But all of these people are going to run each other over and we don’t even know what’s happening!” Steve shook his head and motioned to Sam. Together, the three of you wove your way out of the hall and towards an emergency exit. Alarms were already screaming through the building, and opening the door did little to change that. Steve had just positioned himself to check around front when you noticed movement toward the back of the building. Tugging on Steve’s tux, you motioned towards the activity before going stiff. Two generals, a governor, and another, too familiar, figure were being forced into the back of several sedans. You would have recognized Mark’s gait anywhere.

Without thinking, you lunged towards the group. Almost as if he was anticipating your next move, Steve grabbed you and swung you back around the corner. You struggled in his grasp while he peeked around the corner. You heard cars pull out of the parking lot and onto the street. Steve put his mouth against your ear and whispered quickly as you continued to thrash.

“I saw him, doll. I know they have them. But I also know that they were packing heat and I wasn’t about to get any of us shot. I don’t have my shield and we’re outnumbered.” The ringing in your ears now gone, you could hear every word. Even as horror set in, you acknowledged Steve’s words. You stopped struggling and went limp for a second. Steve pulled you to his chest and held you. Sheltered in his arms, you took several deep breaths and collected yourself. When you could stand on your own, Steve released you. The sound of some kind of engine whirred overhead, and a small red craft hovered above Sam. Sam pulled a container out from the flying machine and handed it to Steve, who opened it and pulled out an earpiece. You watched as Sam and Steve rapidly conversed with the rest of the team. There was a scratching sound from somewhere above you. When you craned your neck to look, Clint waved at you from the roof while even higher up, Iron Man shot across the sky. Natasha appeared out of nowhere and Steve stepped away from you.

“Go with Natasha, okay?” He cut you off before you could protest. “I don’t have my shield, and she’s got guns. In this case, the best defense is a good offense. I’ll meet you back at the hotel after we figure out what’s going on. Please, doll. I need to know that you’re okay.” His eyes were pleading. You sighed and nodded, allowing Natasha to herd you into one of Tony’s cars.

You and Natasha peeled out of the parking lot just as the emergency vehicles pulled in. You watched Steve and Sam disappear back into the museum and wished that you could stay with them. You glanced over at Natasha, but looked away quickly, a little afraid of the expression on her face. You wondered if she was upset about having to babysit Steve’s new girlfriend. You shrank back into your seat. As she wove in and out of the D.C. traffic, Natasha handed you a small device. “Put this in your ear. You can’t speak through it but you’ll be able to hear what’s going on back at the museum,” she directed. Blinking back sudden tears, you tucked it into your right ear.

You could hear Tony and Rhodey relaying information to each other so they could keep the police informed. Every once in a while, Clint’s voice would appear, giving an update. Steve’s voice came through the din, loud and clear. “N’tasha, update?” Natasha hit the gas and the car tore down the stretch of empty road. “Five minutes out.”

“And Y/N? How is she doing?” he asked, softer this time. Natasha glanced over at you.

“I think the two of you are gonna have some stuff to talk through when this is all over.” Steve sighed. “She’s listening, isn’t she?” Natasha’s lip quirked. Steve continued. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. You deserved so much better tonight. I promise I’ll make it up to you.” You stared out the window at the streetlights as they blew by.

“As much as I would love to mediate this little therapy session, the Commander in Chief is asking for an update, and he seems to have a thing for the capsicle here,” Tony broke in. Steve sighed again and the line went silent.

Just as Natasha promised, the two of you arrived at the hotel minutes later. Bypassing the front entrance, Natasha led you around back and magicked open an emergency exit. You silently followed her down a series of anonymously lush hallways until she stopped at a door. “D’you want your own room or should I leave you in Steve’s? His has a swanky couch that he can sleep on,” she added quickly, as unsure about the extent of your relationship as you suddenly were.

You cleared your throat. “Steve’s,” you said quietly.

Natasha nodded and inserted a key card into the door. “I’m right next door if you need anything. The entire floor is ours, so we won’t be disturbed. I’ll come give you an update in a bit.” You nodded and stepped into the room, letting the door swing shut and lock behind you.


	13. Alone Together

The room was illuminated by dimmed recessed lighting that lined the ceiling. Teetering a little on your sore feet, you sat heavily in a plush chair and set your clutch on the table. Leaning over, you unhooked your heels and pulled them off. Holding them in one hand, you made your way through the room, touching nothing. Although you guessed that the team would have cancelled room service, everything in the suite was tidy. None of Steve’s belongings had found their way into the living room. You poked your head into the dark bedroom, feeling like you were intruding. You groped your way along the wall until you bumped into what felt like the bedside table. Turning on the lamp, you looked around this room. The bed was made, immaculate, even though you knew that the team had been there for several days. Looking closer, you noticed the hospital corners at the foot of the bed. The tightly tucked blankets and sheets were abnormal in a luxury hotel where everything was artfully draped, but you knew they were regulation in the army. Moving around to the other side, you saw that Steve had piled the half dozen or so extra pillows on an ottoman, leaving just one pillow at the head of the bed. An olive green duffel, army issue, sat in the corner. Next to it lay a round shield. 

Overwhelmed and suddenly exhausted, you sank down onto the bed. You realized that your other clothes sat in your bag at your hotel, across the city. Hoping that Steve wouldn’t mind, you gingerly shifted over so that you were laying on the bed, promising yourself that you would just take a quick nap. You turned your face into the pillow and inhaled deeply, expecting to smell some kind of fancy laundry detergent. Instead, all you smelled was Steve. Clutching at the soft down, you let the tears that had been looming all night fall and drifted off into a troubled sleep. 

 

The next time you opened your eyes, you had almost forgotten where you were, but your sore feet and puffy eyes brought you crashing back to reality. You sat up and looked around. It was still dark outside, but someone had covered you with a soft blanket. Looking towards the living room, you could faintly hear the television. Swinging your legs over the side, you slid off the bed and stepped into the other room. Steve looked up at you from the couch. He had tossed his suit jacket over the back of the couch and abandoned his bowtie, leaving him in a crisp white dress shirt that he’d unbuttoned at the top. A pile of folders stamped with red warnings were spread across the coffee table in front of him. 

“Hey there,” he said softly. “I’m sorry if I woke you. I wanted to let you sleep for as long as you needed.” You shook your head, only half listening as you watched the news report on the attack at the Smithsonian flash across the screen. Steve let you watch until the end of the segment before turning off the television. 

“I know that nothing is alright, but how are you doing?” he asked. You lip trembled but you resolved not to cry anymore. 

“Is there any news?” you asked coming around the couch to sit beside him. 

Steve shook his head. “None yet. No ransom demands as of now, and they left in twelve different cars. We lost them as soon as they hit the evening traffic.” You could hear the frustration in his voice and felt guilty for the anger that you had felt towards him. He felt as powerless as you did. “But Tony’s got intelligence ops on it. We’ll figure this out.” You nodded and ran your hands up and down your bare arms. Steve wrapped an arm around you and pressed his lips against your hair. “Why don’t you go back to bed? There’s not much more we can do until the morning.” You shook your head and leaned into him. 

“I don’t want to be alone,” you whispered. Steve stood up, pulling you with him. Together, the two of you walked back into the bedroom. 

Steve gestured at the bed. “Lay back down. I’m just gonna take a shower and then I’ll be right in.” You nodded numbly and sat back down on the bed. Steve leaned over and switched off the light before disappearing into the bathroom. You listened as he turned on the shower and began to move around the bathroom. Your eyes had just begun to flutter shut when the door opened and Steve made his way to the bed in the dark. Even though you had tucked yourself under the duvet, Steve chose to lie down over the blankets, pulling the throw he had given you over himself. Lying on his side, he slipped an arm over your form and pulled you against him. You turned to face him and tucked your head under his chin. As Steve’s breathing synchronized with your own, and as your eyes grew heavy, you realized that you were technically sleeping with Captain America, but the reality was nowhere near how you imagined it. 


	14. Revelations

The morning light filtered into the bedroom from a lavishly dressed window. Steve’s side of the bed was empty, but you could hear him speaking to someone in the next room. Sliding out of bed, you looked down at your now wrinkled dress. Sick of wearing it, you slipped into the bathroom, showered, and snagged one of the weirdly plush bathrobes from a conveniently placed pile. Wringing the last of the water from your hair, you went out into the living room and grabbed your clutch. Running through the notifications on your phone, you slapped your forehead. “Shit! I forgot to check in with Bianca. She must be frantic.” 

Steve looked up from the files he had been poring over. “I had her escorted home and operations has been sending her updates.” You sagged with relief, glad that you wouldn’t have to face her just yet. 

There was a knock at the door. You jumped, your heart suddenly racing. Steve stood and went to answer it. Natasha was waiting on the other side. She glanced at you in a bathrobe and at Steve, but didn’t say anything about it. Instead she asked “Breakfast?” Steve looked over at you. “Y/N? What’ll be?” Still unreasonably anxious you snapped.

“Coffee, just coffee.” Steve raised an eyebrow at you before turning to Natasha. 

“She’ll have eggs and toast and I’ll have my usual.” Natasha nodded and moved on to the next room. Steve sighed and closed the door before kneeling in front of you. “You gotta talk t’me, doll.” You pinched the bridge of your nose. 

“What do you want me to say, Steve?” 

“You’re angry with me, aren’t you?” He looked at you with puppy dog eyes. 

You leaned forward and rested your face in your hands. “Not at you, just...angry in general. I’m angry that my best friend is such an idiot; I’m angry that he got taken away right in front of me and all I did was stand there and  _ shake! _ ” The last word tore out of your throat and Steve flinched. Your phone buzzed in your hand and a reminder to check out of your hotel by noon popped up. Steve saw it at the same time you did, but you were the only one who stood up. Heading for the bedroom, you picked your dress up and shook it out. Steve followed you in. “What’re you doing?” he asked worriedly. 

Hand on the robe’s belt, you swung around to face him. “I’m going back to my hotel to put on some normal damn clothes and then I’m finding Bianca.” Steve faltered. “An-and then what?” You clenched the dress in your other hand.

“And then I’m going home. There’s obviously a reason why all of you pair up together.” You stepped into the bathroom and tore your robe off and threw it out the door towards a chair. 

“What the hell are you talking about?” Steve demanded angrily. 

You twisted around in an attempt to get the zipper all the way up. “What I’m  _ talking about  _ is the fact that normies like me can’t date superhumans like you. We get in the way. I’m not going to be some damsel who you have to rescue every time something goes bump in the night.” You stormed back out and swerved to avoid bumping into Steve. Bending over, you snatched your shoes off of the floor and made for the door, but Steve grabbed your hand. He put a hand on your hip and used the other to tug your zipper the rest of the way up your back. “You think it’s our fault that we didn’t save your friend,” he said, suddenly deathly calm. 

You matched his tone, still facing away from him. “No, I think that it’s my fault. I was so  _ stupid  _ to think that this was going to work out without someone getting hurt.” Steve jerked you around to face him.

“Don’t I get any say in this?” You stepped in close so he had to lean back to see you.

“No,” you hissed, your heart breaking. You turned and walked out of the room, hoping that you could find your way back through the hallways. Steve stopped in the bedroom door. 

“That’s too bad,” he called out. “Cause if I did, I’d tell you that if I thought it would’ve helped, I would have gone after them, then and there, even though I don’t like the way he looks at you.” He took a step forward. “I’d tell you that you’re just the kind of person we let into our lives because you don’t back down. I’ve met a lotta girls in my time, and you’re one of just a couple who’ve stuck by me. You an’ Peggy. I know better than to coddle you. You deserve better than that.” Before you knew what was happening, Steve was right beside you. “I let one of my girls get away, I’m not letting that happen again.” He pressed towards you, giving you the opportunity to leave. A million thoughts flashed through your brain, but your final decision was crystal clear. You let him crowd you against the door and pull you into a searing kiss. 

Squeezed between Steve and the door, you could feel every inch of his body against your own. Breathlessly, you returned the kiss, letting his hands follow the smooth fabric of your dress around to your ass. You could feel his hardening length against your stomach when he pulled you even closer. He hiked one of your legs up and you moaned a little when his mouth trailed down your neck. You two stood like that, leaned against the door tangled in each other’s limbs, for minutes. When you both came up for air, you carded your fingers through Steve’s mussed hair and he stroked the leg that was still in his grasp. “Just so you know, I don’t have angry sex. Leads to bad decisions,” you said breathlessly. Steve ran his hand back down to your ass and buried his face in your neck. “Roger that,” he muttered.

“When all of this is over though…” you let the unspoken promise hang in the air. Just then, there was a knock on the door.

“Cap! Cap’s girlfriend! Rise and shine. We have things to do, people to save!” You let your head fall against the door with a defeated thunk. 

“Superheroes have the  _ worst  _ timing,” you groused. The two of you untangled your bodies and Steve tried to rearrange himself in a panic. You raised an eyebrow at the evidence of the past few minutes standing proudly in his pants. “You’re gonna need a second,” you commented as Tony continued to knock on the door. Steve made a beeline for the bathroom. “Hold ‘em off for a minute!” he said. You smoothed your dress and swung the door open mid-knock. Tony caught himself and swept by you. “You didn’t have to dress up for me, dear,” he commented as he plunked a Stark brand tech case down on the coffee table. You ignored him and held the door open for the rest of the team as they filed in. “Where’s Steve?” asked Rhodey. 

“Shower,” you said nonchalantly as possible. No one seemed to notice anything except Natasha, which was something you figured you would just have to get used to. Everyone sat down around the coffee table as Tony began booting all of his equipment up. Just as Tony connected to operations back at the Avengers Facility, Steve came back into the room, toweling off his head. He looked calm and collected, but you guessed that the water left in his hair was significantly colder than usual.

You hovered in the background as the operations analyst began briefing the team on developments since last night. Ransom demands had been sent to the Pentagon regarding the two generals, and to the governor’s family. Steve shot a glance your way. “Nothing about Mark?” 

Scrolling through the files, the analyst shook his head. “No sir. No mentions of the fourth victim. We re-checked the guest list and seating charts and realized that General Abington had an emergency come up last minute. Sergeant Major Mark Sahlins took his spot in the reserved seating.”

Rhodey started flipping through files. “Abington, Abington. I know that name. Isn’t he a special advisor to the U.N. committee that wrote up the-”

“The Sokovia Accords,” Steve finished grimly. “He was one of the few members of the brass on our side. He was actually starting to convince some of the signing countries to agree to amending the document.” 

Tony scratched his beard. “So they weren’t aiming for this Mark guy in the first place. He was just a happy accident.” Blood rushed to your face and you opened your mouth to respond when Steve stood up. “Maybe you should head back to your hotel and grab your stuff,” he commented. Tony looked up, and seeing the anger and hurt on your face, actually looked a little contrite. “That sounds like a great idea, Cap. I’ll have Happy bring her over.” You sighed, picking your battles and headed for the door. “You wanna borrow a pair of shoes, Y/N?” Tony called out. “I’m betting that Nat has-”

“No,” you said bluntly and let the door slam shut behind you. You had almost made it to the elevator when Steve caught up to you. “We’ll find him. I promise.” You hit the down button and waited for the elevator to make it to your floor. “Just don’t do anything heroic until I get back, okay? Can we make that a deal? You at least call to check in? I just need to hear your voice,” your own voice cracked a little. The elevator arrived at your floor with a ding. Steve held the doors open with one hand. “It’s a deal,” he said, kissing you.


	15. Heading Out

Back in your hotel room, you pulled on a t-shirt and jeans and a pair of normal shoes. As you were zipping the dress back into the garment bag, your phone rang. Bianca’s name screamed up at you from the screen. You answered the call with shaking hands, expecting the worst. “Hello?” you asked tentatively. 

“Oh thank god,” Bianca’s voice was shakier than your own. 

“Bianca, I am so sorry. I-” 

Bianca cut you off.  “Have you heard anything more? I’ve been getting updates, but I figured you might know more since, well, Captain America and all.” Your mouth opened and closed like a fish.  “Well?” Bianca said. 

“I uh. I just left them. They’re working on a plan to get them - him back.” 

Bianca burst into tears. “Please, can you let me know as soon as anything happens? I don’t care how small.” 

You dug your fingernails into your palm to keep your voice steady. “I promise I will, Bianca. We’ll get him back. Listen, I have to go,” you lied. 

“Sure, sure,” Bianca sniffled. “Thank you so much.” The conversation ended with a click. 

Troubled, you threw the rest of your things in your duffle bag and prepared to check out. Opening the door, you came face to face with Happy, Tony’s bodyguard, among other things. “Are you ready to go, ma’am?” he asked. You nodded, unnerved. 

‘Yeah, I just need to go downstairs and check out.” Leaning down and snagging your bag, Happy inclined his head. “That’s been taken care of already.” You rolled your eyes. 

“I didn’t ask Tony to do any of this.” Happy smiled placidly as you led the way outside. 

“I just follow the orders, ma’am.” 

Although he was clearly Tony’s inside man, Happy seemed to sense that you weren’t in the mood to talk. You sat in the back seat of the black Audi in silence as it slipped through the midday traffic. All too soon, you arrived back at the hotel. Clint met you on your floor.

“Hey there, Y/N. We got you your own room, ‘cause we kinda took Steve’s over.” You took your duffle back from Happy and followed Clint to your new room, two doors down from Steve’s. “How’re things going?” you asked, wondering how much he would actually tell you. Clint shrugged and handed you a key card. “We’re prepping a plan right now. Tony’s still trying to trace the source of the ransom demands, but they’re being pretty cagey about it.” You slipped the keycard into its slot. “So you’re not paying the ransom?” Clint snorted. 

“Nah. The official reason is ‘we don’t negotiate with terrorists,’” he said mockingly. “But really it’s because it wouldn’t do us any good. We’re better off going in and getting them.” He pushed your door open. “Don’t worry, we’ll get them back. Your boyfriend is a captain for a reason.” You thanked him and entered your room. Clint gave you a nod before heading back to Steve’s room. You looked around the opulent room, and felt very out of place. You set your bag down on the floor and went over to the giant television. You considered watching a movie, but knew that it wouldn’t distract you. Instead, you surfed through news channels. You had been watching the same news being reported on the same five channels for over an hour, when someone tapped on your door. Rising, you went to answer it, finding Steve on the other end, holding a bottle of water and a wrapped sandwich. 

“Figured you’d be hungry,” he said offering them to you. You took them and stepped back so Steve could come in. The two of you sat at one of the small tables in the room as you began to eat the sandwich, just realizing how ravenous you were. “So what’s the plan?” you demanded between bites. Steve checked his watch. “We’re heading out at fifteen hundred hours. Tony’s managed to narrow their location down to a two mile radius. We’re sending drones out to scout the area and then we’ll have a better idea of what we’re facing. We’ll iron out the rest on the way over.” You looked up from your sandwich.

“Over  _ where?”  _ you asked sharply. 

Steve looked up at you with a guarded expression. “Off the coast of Washington. State.” he added. “It’ll take us four or five hours to get there in one of the quinjets. Tony’s arranged for a flight to take you home.” 

You could tell that he was gearing up for another fight, but you didn’t have the energy.  “Could you at least get me a line to you or something? I hate having to find things out from CNN.” 

Tony waltzed into the room, somehow bypassing the hotel’s security system. “I can do you two lovebirds one better.” Steve rose out of the chair he had been sitting in. 

“Haven’t you heard of knocking?” 

Tony dangled a card on a lanyard in front of your face. “Nope! This is for you.” He dropped it into your lap. Turning it over, you stared at a picture of yourself that he had obviously taken within the past day. “Jesus, I was literally in makeup and my best clothes last night. You couldn’t have used those?” you complained. “What even is this?” 

Tony looked affronted.  “Well I didn’t know you’d need it last night, did I?”

“Tony…” Steve said warningly. Tony raised his hands in the air.

“Fine, fine! It’s a level six, non-combatant clearance badge.” Steve looked confused. 

“That’s not a thing.”

“It is now!” Tony replied cheerily. “That’s the nice part about being the boss. It’s up there with dictating the dress code.” This time it was you who looked warningly at Tony. “Whatever,” he said. “I just figured she’d appreciate a front-row seat in operations. Then she’ll be able to keep her eye on all of us. I trust her to keep our secrets. Plus,” he added airily. “I know where she works. And where she lives.” With that, Tony waltzed back out of the room. 

“That’s not true,” Steve said. You looked at him. 

“Yes it is,” you both chorused after a moment. Until meeting Tony, you had never experienced such annoyance and appreciation towards one person. You clutched the badge, your lifeline to the rest of the team. Steve moved over to your side of the table. “I should head back over to my room so that we can finish planning. We’ll be leaving at the same time. Happy’ll escort you back on one of Tony’s jets.” You signed and leaned into Steve, who rubbed your shoulder. 

“I have a feeling Happy and I are going to have plenty of opportunities to get to know each other.” 

“Probably. But I’m glad you’ll be safe. I wouldn’t want anyone else in my ear.” You stood up, rising to your tiptoes, and gave Steve a kiss. 

“I’ll be there every second,” you promised. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the love, y'all <3 Working on this kept me going through finals


	16. On Enemy Soil

You made it back to New York in record time. As soon as the plane hit the tarmac, you made a beeline for the operations floor, hoping like hell that your security clearance was all figured out. You flashed the new badge at the agent standing guard, preparing to make a fuss, but she waved you through without comment. Sighing in relief, you looked around the huge room. 

Computers, monitors, and 3D imaging equipment took up the bulk of the space. The rest of the room was taken up by desks and tables covered in files and other paperwork, with dozens of agents taking notes and trading briefs. The room was unexpectedly loud; between the whirrs of computers and twenty agents speaking various languages to people in different time zones, you could barely hear yourself think. Afraid to interrupt anyone’s vital tasks, you scanned the room in vain. You had begun to panic when a woman in a black dress and heels approached you. She had an earpiece in and stopped briefly to give a pair of agents some orders. She shot you a quick smile and held out her hand. “I’m agent Maria Hill. You must be Y/N. Mr.Stark told me to expect you.” 

You appreciated her no-nonsense approach, especially now. “Any updates?” you attempted to mirror her authoritative calm. She turned away and began walking towards the busiest corner of the room. You hurried to follow, weaving between agents’ bodies and workstations. Winded, you finally caught up with her at the main command station. Agent Hill pulled up a chair for you and positioned you off to the side where you could see all of the action. 

There were seven names on the monitor, matched with vital signs and a continually changing set of GPS coordinates. The heart and respiration rates were spiking, and yours rose to match them. One of the analysts leaned over and whispered to you. “They always spike when they’re on an op. Most of them start before their feet hit the ground. It’s completely normal. Plus,” he added, “we have a doctor on call who can tell us when to worry.” He handed you a headset, and began to identify the team’s signals on the map. 

They were moving swiftly across the terrain in a tight formation. They seemed to be flanking a lone building on the small, deserted coastal island. Another analyst approached Agent Hill. “Our drones are in place. We have visual.” Flicking her tablet screen, Agent Hill transferred the video to one of the larger screens. You leaned forward, holding your breath until you could see them moving through the pine trees. A flash of red and gold flitted in front of the drone before disappearing, either Tony or Vision. The team finally made it to the side of the building. Natasha knelt and melted through the lock on the side door with some kind of tool. One by one, the team slipped inside and disappeared from view. 

Forced to piece together the action based off of their vitals, you watched as everyone’s heart rates increased. The analyst sitting next to you made an adjustment, and suddenly you could hear the team. Steve was murmuring orders to the rest of them, while Tony continued to make smart-ass remarks. There were several muffled thumps as Natasha, Sam, Clint, and Steve began tracking the hostiles they had taken out. Ten minutes passed. Then twenty. You had started to acclimate to the energy in the room and had just started to relax a little when the sound of gunshots blasted through your earpiece. 

“Does anyone have eyes on the hostages?” Steve yelled. 

Most of the team replied with negatives, but Clint whispered. “I’ve got ‘em. Storage room, top floor. But they’re suspended in some kind of...goo?” The analysts typed even faster, if that was possible. 

“Don’t touch it! I’m on my way,” Tony ordered. 

You could practically see Clint rolling his eyes. “Bummer. I was planning on licking some of it up. Maybe smearing it on-” 

Steve’s voice cut in. “Guys,” he said warningly. You smiled, picturing Steve’s frustration over his friends’ banter. 

An accented voice appeared for the first time over the comms. “Guys, there are more people here and they’ve got guns.” 

Natasha sounded like she was running. “Yeah, we got that Wanda.” 

“No, these ones are weird. And their minds…” she trailed off and there was an explosion.

“Oookay, no touchy the goo,” Tony commented. “We have to figure out a way to get these guys out of here.” 

Steve grunted and there was a clang.  “We’re a little busy Tony. Figure it out.” 

Tony muttered to himself while Clint hurried to help him. “Figure it out Tony. Stop talking Tony. Don’t say that kind of thing to the stewardess, Tony. Can’t have any fun.” 

“I think they’re called flight attendants, Tony.”

“I didn’t know you had a women’s studies degree, Romanoff.” 

“I’m in their hard drive now, copying it as we speak,” she said ignoring him. “Whoa. There’s more stuff on here than we thought. It’s going to take me a hot second.” 

“Well I’ve got almost everybody out of this stuff. Yes, even your gal’s pal, Rogers.” The analyst pulled another monitor over just as four more sets of vitals popped up on the screen. After a second, names appeared above them. There, strong and steady, if not a little high, was Mark’s heart rate. You exhaled for what felt like the first time in days. 

“I’m sorry to interrupt the joviality, but there appear to be several unmanned crafts approaching us at a high velocity.” The clipped British accent sounded vaguely concerned. “And they’re carrying projectiles.”

“Well, take care of them Vision!”

“I would, but there are dozens of them. I estimate that they will be within range in fifty seconds. I recommend immediate evacuation of the premises.”

“Gee, what a novel idea,” Sam snapped. “Listen guys, they’re faster than Red Wing. We need to move.”

You watched as most of the vital signs began to move away from the building. Tony and Clint seemed to have the hostages, and Wanda and Vision both ran to help them, leaving Natasha, Sam, and Steve behind in the warehouse. Natasha called out to Sam, who swung by and snatched her up from the roof. They landed several hundred yards away and continued running. “Steve,” Sam puffed into the comms. “You need to get out of there  _ now.  _ You’re surrounded.” Steve didn’t say anything, but you could see him moving slowly through a room in the basement. “Steve, get your star spangled ass out of there!” Tony ordered. You stood, gripping the edge of the table with white knuckles. The analysts gave you room as they spat out information about the weapons that were surrounding the building. From what you could make out, they didn’t know enough about the weapons to target them without possibly triggering some kind of failsafe mechanism. “Come on, Steve, come on,” you muttered to yourself as the rest of the team yelled over the comms. 

“These weapons. They’re the same ones that…” Steve sounded like he was half-asleep or drugged. 

“Fifteen seconds,” Vision said. Agent Hill tapped the analyst on the shoulder. 

“Patch her in,” she directed, nodding at you. The analyst hit a few keys and looked at you. 

“Steve,” you spoke evenly in a low voice. “You need to get out of there.  _ Now.”   _ You tried to put as much pull into your words as possible. 

“These guns, from Germany.”  
“Steve, NOW!” you screamed at the same time Tony swore and moved in, leaving the hostages with the rest of the team. You watched Steve’s signal finally begin to move towards the exit, but he didn’t have time. On screen, Tony flew into the building, spitting orders at his AI to put as much power into his thrusters as possible. Their two signals converged at the same time that the weapons outside opened fire. The building exploded in a flash of blue flames and smoke. You heard Tony swearing as Steve let out a scream. You turned to the screen with the vitals and watched as Steve’s heart rate flew into the the two hundreds and his blood pressure peaked and then plummeted. “Get the quinjet ready to go and get a doc on the line, we’re gonna need to leave, _now_.” Tony’s voice had lost all of its good humor. Someone in a white coat pushed you aside and began speaking into the comms. 

“Hostage status?” barked Agent Hill. 

“All four of them are fine, Maria,” Clint said. “But Cap’s looking pretty bad.” The doctor broke in, suggesting that they stop at a nearby hospital. “No can do,” Tony spat. “We’re gonna need all hands on deck at the facilities. I don’t want anyone else in on this.” You could hear the quinjet take off in the background. Steve’s vitals were still falling. “What the hell happened?” Maria Hill asked once they were in the air. “He wouldn’t get his ass out of that basement. I’ve never seen him like that before.”   
“Did you see what was down there?”

“Negatory. And Maria?”

“Yes?”

“You’re going to want to dig up the cat’s phone number. We’re gonna need him.”


	17. Sitting Vigil

You were waiting in the infirmary as soon as the team got off the quinjet. Wrapped in silver emergency blankets, the former hostages were hustled into protective custody. You promised yourself that you would check on Mark as soon as you knew Steve was okay; you wouldn’t have access to them until they’d been briefed by intelligence anyway.

Medics wheeled Steve in on a gurney and began to slice his uniform off of his body. There were a few cuts and burns from the explosion, but everyone was focusing on the gaping hole in his thigh. Blood was pooling around several shards of red, white, and blue shrapnel. “What are those?” Agent Hill asked as Tony scanned Steve’s leg and projected it in the air over his body.

“Those would be pieces of the shield that dear old dad made for Steve back when he was fighting the Nazis.”

The doctor looked up from picking through a tray of surgical instruments. “I thought that shield was invulnerable. Made of the strongest material on Earth.”

Tony leaned in a little closer. “So did I. So did my father for that matter. But whatever those weapons were, they splintered a piece of the shield right off. I’ve got the rest in my lab, I’ll do my best to figure out what the weapon was.”

Holding up a large pair of forceps, the doctor pulled a mask over her face. “I want these out of his body stat. They’re perforating his femoral artery and we don’t know what the metal will do in his bloodstream.” She looked down at Steve, whose eyes had fluttered open. “No time for pain meds, Captain Rogers. This is gonna hurt.” A tech pulled the light closer to the table.

You leaned over Steve, blocking the surgical team from view. “Hey, love,” you whispered as he struggled to focus on you through the pain.

He tried to smile, but it came out more of a grimace. “We got ‘im back, doll.” He threw his head back and grunted as the doctor began the painstaking process of digging through his flesh for the pieces of metal. You smoothed a hand over his sweaty brow. “I was in your ear the entire time. No more camping out for me. I got to see operations and everything.” Steve gritted his teeth and his vitals monitor began to beep.

“I want all non-essential personnel out of here now,” the doctor snapped. “This is going to get a whole lot worse if his blood pressure doesn’t stabilize.” You tugged on Steve’s chin so that he’d face you. You ran a finger over his lip. “Just breathe, Steve.” You’d coached enough PT work to know that holding your breath wouldn’t help with the pain. Steve let out the air in his lungs in small huffs through his nose. You kept speaking to him in a low tone as you brushed your hand over his cheek. “You’re doing great, just keep breathing. You’re almost done. There you go, in and out.” The beeping in the monitor cut off as Steve’s breathing and blood pressure grew more stable. A tech wheeled in a portable x-ray and the doctor checked the scans for any more pieces. “I’m ready to close him up and then we can get him to recovery.”

You risked a peek at the exposed musculature in Steve’s leg. “How’s it lookin’?” he rasped.

“Even your muscle fibers are pretty, Steve. How’d I get so lucky?” Steve smiled wanly as a nurse pushed a sedative into his line. You watched his eyes flutter closed and his breathing become even. Agent Hill appeared at your elbow. “They’re just going to finish stitching him up and then you can sit with him in recovery. There’s someone waiting for you in one of the conference rooms. I thought you’d like to update her regarding Sergeant Sahilns’ rescue.” You nodded and took a deep breath, following Maria to where Bianca was waiting.

Bianca jumped up as soon as she saw you. “Y/N! How is he?” You nodded at Maria and gestured for Bianca to sit.

“Mark is fine,” you began. “He’s got a few bumps and bruises and is a little spooked, but he’ll be just fine.”

“When can I see him?” she demanded.

“As soon as they’re done asking him some questions. They’re hoping that he can give them descriptions of the men who took them. He’ll be done soon, I promise.” You reached over and placed a box of tissues in front of her. She grabbed a few and dabbed at her eyes. “I can’t thank you enough for being here, for keeping me updated. I was afraid they wouldn’t tell me everything. I bet that knowing Captain America- wait. Where is Captain America?” As she calmed, Bianca must have noticed your stiff posture and the exhaustion on your face.

“He’ll be okay,” you said quickly. “I was just really worried.” You weren’t sure, but it was probably best practice not to reveal the Avengers’ medical information to the public. “I’ve been up for a while.” You stood. “I’d better go check on him actually. Someone’ll be here soon with Mark and then you two can head home.”

On your way to recovery, you stopped in the walkway that overlooked the woods. Stars glittered in the sky over the pitch black of the valley below. You leaned against the handrail and bowed your head. There was a rumbling outside, but there were no lights to signal an incoming ship. Shaking your head, you continued into the infirmary.

Most of the team was spread out on various surfaces in the recovery room, but they began to clear out as soon as you stepped in. Steve was asleep in the hospital bed with his injured leg elevated and swathed in bandages. You sat in a chair by his shoulder and began your vigil. As much as you would have liked to have stayed awake, the last several days took their toll on you. Intertwining your fingers with his, you leaned back and dozed off. You woke up at daybreak with a sore neck and a dry mouth. Steve opened his eyes as you tried to twist the knots out of your back. “Am I in heaven?” he said dopily.

You grinned and leaned down to gingerly kiss him on the lips. “Mmm. Tony’s out there in the hallway, so probably not.”

Steve grinned too and squeezed your hand. “You’re still an angel though.” You chuckled.

“They’ve got you on the good stuff, soldier.” You stood, but Steve held on to your hand.   
“I mean it,” he said. “I heard your voice. I don’t know what happened, it was like I was back in Germany, everything sounded like war. I didn’t know what I could trust.” He shifted a little in bed, grimacing at the pain flaring in his thigh. “But your voice, it cut through all of it.” Steve gazed up at you, but his expression changed when he looked towards the door. Tony was leaning there, looking almost as haggard as you felt. Steve opened his mouth.

“Tony,” he began.

Tony pushed himself off of the door jam. “Save it, Steve. I’m here for your girl. There’s someone I’d like her to meet.”

You looked back towards Steve, who shrugged. “I’m not going anywhere.”

You leaned down and kissed him once more before following Tony out of the med wing and towards his private labs.


	18. On the Mend

Tony stood in front of the biometric sensors as they scanned his retina and other vitals. The doors slid open and you thought for a moment that you really were in heaven. You thought back to your lab, which was state of the art and overfunded as it was. Tony’s lab made yours look like a toy robot set. You would have loved to have spent hours looking at every single item, but the group waiting for you meant that would have to wait. “Y/N, I’d like you to meet some...what are you guys? Allies? Nannies?” The man in the center of the group stepped forward, while the woman standing behind him followed him. “I am Prince T’Challa of Wakanda.” You raised your eyebrow at the royalty standing in front of you. 

Tony stage whispered behind you. “They’re really good at keeping secrets.” The tall woman with a tattooed scalp looked menacingly at him in response. Out from between the prince and his bodyguard stepped a younger woman. Her black hair was braided and coiled in a bun on the top of her head. She grinned and crossed her arms in an x in front of her. “You guys are just bad at looking. And Tony’s just jealous of my work.” She cheekily winked at you. “My name is Shuri, I’m the brains of the royal family. I was so happy to hear that another woman is doing the same kind of work as me. Come,” she looped her arm around yours and led you to a station with tech that was significantly different from all of Tony’s stuff. In the middle of the lab bench sat Steve’s shield. The last time you had seen it in the hotel room, it was immaculate, practically glowing in the light. Now it sat in a set of clamps, with a huge chunk taken out of the side. You could see where it had splintered off into Steve’s leg. Some dried blood still coated the edges of the break. It hurt your heart to look at it, like you were looking at Steve’s injury all over again. “Has anyone told him yet?” Tony nodded silently. 

Shuri pulled a schematic up using her bracelet.  “You and I, my friend, are going to work with this old man to figure out what happened and how to fix this thing.” She rapped a knuckle on the shield. “I’m sure I can do much better.” You watched Tony seethe in the corner of the room. 

“But I don’t have any experience with weapons. I’m just a prosthetist and a physical therapist.” 

Tony spoke up. “Which means that you understand the physics of metals and other materials and how they handle stress. I’ve seen your resume.” You turned the idea over in your mind before nodding slowly. “I’ll do my best.” 

Over the next week or so, you worked with Shuri and a begrudging Tony to mend Steve’s shield. You delighted in spending time with the young Wakandan princess; her wit and humor were infectious. Shuri showed you some of her latest projects and in return, you snuck her into your lab. It took many late nights and early mornings, and the two of you put up with plenty of grumbling from Tony, but you managed to repair Steve’s shield within a week. 

When you weren’t working on the shield, you were at Steve’s bedside. His metabolism burned through pain medications, rendering them virtually useless, and the high dose of antibiotics made him feel even worse. So you sat with him to distract him from the pain and introduced him to the wonders of probiotic yogurt. Unused to spending time in a modern hospital and uncomfortable being cooped up, Steve’s morale was often low. You watched dozens of movies together and the team would come in and play poker after hours. You’d even brought in Cards Against Humanity. Although everyone else had an unfair advantage over Steve, you’d watched with interest as he blushed in recognition at some of the dirtier cards. Filing the information away for later, you explained the pop culture references to him after everyone else had left for the night. 

Nighttime was the hardest for the super soldier. You guessed that he didn’t sleep much as it was, but in the infirmary he fought tooth and nail against impending slumber every night. You’d finally resorted to bringing in speakers so that you could play jazz for him as he dozed. Even then, his hypervigilance would kick in as soon as his body relaxed, and he would jerk awake. A few, sleepless nights into his recovery, you’d waited until the last nurse had come in for the night before toeing off your shoes and slipping your shirt over your head. Steve watched you make your way over to the bed in your bra and switch off the light. “Okay soldier, make some room,” you ordered, picking up the blankets. Steve moved in a daze, leaving you a space on his hospital bed. Snuggling up next to him, you laid an arm over his bare chest and placed an ear over his heart. “What’re you doing?” His voice was strangled. You breathed in deeply several times before answering. “I want you to be able to hear me breathing and to feel my heartbeat. Yours will sync up with mine and hopefully help you get some rest.” Steve’s whole body had gone stiff beside you and his heart was hammering beneath your ear. 

“Does this make you uncomfortable?” you asked softly. 

Steve considered for a moment. “I wanna do things right by you,” he said slowly. “And this isn’t how I pictured it at all.” 

You smiled against his chest. “So you’ve been thinking about me in bed with you, huh?”

“I uh- I just meant that-” 

You chuckled and leaned up on your arm to peer at him through the dark. “I’m kidding, Steve. I think about being in bed with you all the time. But the scenarios don’t generally involve monitors and holes in your body. We can do things ‘right’ after you’re patched up, and you’re not gonna get any better without sleep.” You had given him a moment to think. “Do you want me to leave?” you asked. 

Steve wrapped an arm around you and pulled you in closer. “No. Sometimes I forget this isn’t the forties anymore. I’ve got a feeling that things’ll go a lot differently now than they would have back then.” He laid his head back on the pillow and began to gradually relax into your arms. 

“You still owe me dinner,” you’d whispered, but he had already fallen asleep. 

 

The vibranium that T’challa had donated from Wakanda’s supply was instrumental in fixing the shield. The three of you reinforced the rest of the shield with a new technology that Shuri had developed, hopefully preventing any more shattering in the future. You were giddy about the prospect of returning the shield to Steve, but Tony wanted nothing to do with the process. Instead, you slipped on the magnetic harness that Steve used to fasten the shield to his back, and allowed the metal to adhere to the magnets. As you began to walk towards Steve’s recovery room, Shuri jogged to catch up with you. “I was wondering if I could ask for your input on a prosthesis that I’m working on. The exo-suit that you’ve made for Tony’s friend is incredible.”  
“Sure! What’s it for?”

“Well, it’s for an arm, not a leg this time. There was a lot of nerve damage that happened with the old one, and I want to make this one as comfortable and responsive as possible.” The two of you took the long way to the infirmary and lingered outside of the entrance as you talked shop. After a while, Okoye stepped out of the shadows and placed a hand on Shuri’s shoulder. “It is time for us to leave. You are needed back at home.” 

Shuri sighed and pulled you into a hug. “Alas, my kingdom awaits. Promise me you’ll keep in touch.” 

You squeezed her and nodded. “Of course I will! And let me know how that project of yours works out.” 

Shuri called over her shoulder as she left. “Oh, you’ll definitely be seeing it! Tell Steve to take better care of his things!” You waved before turning back towards the infirmary. 

The doors slid open with a swish and the sounds and smells of the medical bay wafted towards you. Suddenly nervous and more than a little foolish feeling, you stepped inside, the shield heavy, but oddly comforting on your back. You made your way to Steve’s room, waving at the nurses and doctors you had befriended along the way. Today, Steve was looking so much healthier than the night they had wheeled him in for emergency surgery. His leg was healing nicely and was infection free. He was anxious to leave the infirmary and return to duty. 

He was wearing sweatpants and was tugging on a shirt when you tapped on the door to his room. Sticking just your head around the door, you grinned. “Well you’re looking perky this morning!” Steve grinned and sat on the chair to pull on his shoes. 

“The doc gave me the go-ahead. I’m free! I can return to duty next week.” You smiled. 

“Wellll, if you’re heading back out there, you’re gonna need something to keep you safe.” You pulled the shield from your back and stepped into the room, presenting it to Steve. His eyes widened and he took the shield from you with a look of wonder on his face. “You guys really did it.” You watched him run his fingers over the red, white, and blue metal before slipping his arm through the straps on the back. You shrugged, suddenly shy. “It was mostly Tony and Shuri.” 

Steve stepped forward and took you in his free arm. “You did amazing doll. It looks like nothing happened.” You reached out and ran a finger over the seam on the back of the shield that held the two kinds of metal together. “The new vibranium can redistribute force that’s applied to it. That way it won’t shatter. It’s the same technology that Shuri put into T’Challa’s suit.” Steve kissed you, sandwiching you between his body and the shield on his arm. You wrapped your arms around his neck. “I wish there was more I could do to keep you safe. Please, please be careful out there.” You felt Steve nod before you released him. “Oh, you’ll probably want this thing back too.” You shrugged the shield’s harness from your shoulders and readjusted it before handing it back to Steve. 

The two of you walked out of the room and almost ran into Natasha and Clint on the way out. “Now that you two are done necking, we can get back to work,” Clint said. You elbowed Clint in the ribs. “ _ Necking? _ Really, Barton, what are you, twelve?”

“Ow! If not that, then what?” 

You turned to Steve.“Captain, permission to teach this birdbrain a lesson?” 

Steve nodded seriously, but his eyes were laughing. “Granted. It’s your patriotic duty” 

Natasha bumped into Clint from the other side, buffeting him as you all walked down the hallway. “In that case, count me in.”

“No loyalty, none!” Clint declared. You were all laughing by the time you’d made it back into the lobby outside of the infirmary. But everyone stopped when Tony rose from the chair he had been sitting in. Clint and Natasha exchanged looks before turning to Steve. You watched Steve swallow before he nodded at his teammates. “You guys go on ahead. I’ll see you tonight.” Natasha and Clint looked worriedly between their two leaders before leaving. You stepped up next to Steve and put a hand on his tense arm. He didn’t look over at you. 

Tony, however, did. “Run along now, Y/N. The grownups have to talk.” You frowned at Tony, but couldn’t muster the anger you knew should have felt. You backed away. “I’ll be in my lab when you’re done, Steve.” 


	19. Into His Arms

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut, finally. Sorry for the wait

You were asleep on your couch when Steve stepped into the lab. He sat down heavily beside you. Sitting up and yawning you slid over to sit flush against him. “How’d it go?” Steve shrugged. “Okay, I guess. He was pretty angry, but not about any of the stuff I thought he would be.” 

You nodded. “He’s been worried about you.”

Steve snorted. “Coulda fooled me.” 

“I mean it. He was up working in the lab every time I came in. And he spent the first few nights sitting up outside of your room.” Steve looked over at you. 

“Really?”

“Yeah.” 

Steve was quiet. You let the silence rest, figuring that he needed space to process the last week. You noticed that he was rubbing his leg as he sat in thought. In the sterile light of your lab he looked pale. You stood up and pulled his hand away from his leg. “You need sleep. Doctor’s orders.” Steve stood without protest and ambled towards the door. Instead of following him, you went over to your desk and picked up a tablet. “Y/N, aren’t you coming?” Steve asked. 

You shook your head. “I still have a couple of things left to do.” Steve’s silences were starting to speak louder than his words. He leaned with most of his weight against a concrete column, his face drawn and anxious. You suddenly realized that he might not want to go to bed alone tonight. “What’s your room number?” you asked. Steve’s tired eyes lit up a little.

“403.”

“Okay, I’ll be up in a little bit. But seriously, Steve. You need to sleep.” 

You walked Steve out of your lab and the two of you parted ways, Steve heading for the living quarters and you heading for the top floor. Tony’s office was dark and his receptionist was gone for the day, so you made a sharp turn and headed for the executive labs. Following the sounds of hard rock, you arrived at a heavy door. Looking up at the video camera over the door, you called out. “Tell him I’m here F.R.I.D.A.Y.” 

A thick Irish accent answered. “He’s in a mood. Doesn’t want to be disturbed.” 

You frowned up at the ceiling, rolling your eyes as you argued with a robot. “Listen. He was a real ass to me earlier today and I let it go. Tell him to stop being a little shit and come talk to me.” You were considering banging on the metal doors when they slid open. 

Tony stood there in a black tank top, his reactor glowing blue beneath the fabric. He was covered in grease and sweat and his hair was in disarray. The bags under his eyes told one story while the crazed look on his face told another. “Do you kiss Captain America with that mouth?” 

You shouldered past him and into his lab. “I do indeed, and I have a few more choice words for you.” Tony followed you back inside, waving at F.R.I.D.A.Y. to stand down. Having spent most of your waking time in this room for the past couple of weeks, you’d learned your way around. Going to the sink in the corner, you ran a clean rag under some warm water and tossed it at your boss. “Use this. Anywhere. You stink.” Tony caught the rag in one hand and watched as you crossed the room to his fridge. He swaggered over, running the cloth over his face and neck. “Mmm. A nightcap. Geat idea. There’s some sixty year old scotch that I won playing the back nine with-” You ignored Tony, and the contents of his well stocked bar in favor of the fridge that stood off to the side. You rifled through it before straightening and plunking a shaker bottle in front of him. The green mixture inside sloshed around as you flipped the cap open. “Stop talking and drink,” you ordered. 

Reading the situation correctly for once, Tony shut up and took several sips of the slimy concoction. Once he’d had enough and you trusted him not to pass out, you leaned across the bar. “Did you two untwist your panties tonight, or what?” you demanded. Tony raised an eyebrow and slurped loudly from the container. “I mean it. Everyone’s walking on eggshells around you two. Even Clint knows that there’s something wrong.” 

Tony set the now-empty bottle down on the expensive bar top. “You should watch your tone with me. I’m your boss you know. And I’m kinda his boss too.” You were not amused. 

“And I’m his girlfriend. And I’m friends with the rest of the team. It’s not fair for them to have to work together like this; no one knows when things are going to blow up again between you two. Picking sides sucks.” 

Tony ran his hands through his already messy hair and heaved a sigh that seemed to come from his toes.  “I went back in and got him, didn’t I? Thought that message was pretty clear.” 

You snorted. “Steve’s about as good at reading messages as you are at sending them.” Tony just looked at you. You rolled your eyes. “You’re bad at messages, that’s what I’m saying. And that you need to figure shit out so that the team can function again.” Your voice softened. “I’ve gotten pretty attached to you all. Selfishly, I’d appreciate it if you all came back alive.” Tony stood and chucked the plastic bottle over your head. It landed in the sink with a crash. “So what you’re saying is, you want me and your man to kiss and make up?” Used to Tony’s deflection strategies, you didn’t flinch. “Yeah, I want you two to try and make up.” You straightened and began walking towards the door. “When does Pepper get back?” 

Tony’s voice followed you out.  “Wednesday. She’s in Stockholm.” You waved over your shoulder as the door slid open.

“Good. You need some sleep.”

 

Once you were back on the main floor of the facilities, you deflated a little. Your false bravado now gone, you felt empty and exhausted. Pulling up a map on your tablet, you followed the directions to the Avengers’ quarters. Steve’s were at the end of the long hallway. You stopped in front of his door and forced yourself to knock. Steve answered almost immediately. Wordlessly, he led you into his apartment. 

You weren’t sure what you expected, but this wasn’t exactly it. Part of you had always wondered if Steve would have done his best to recreate his home from before he went into the ice. You noticed a few books written around that time on his shelves, and there was a record player in his living room. But his bookshelves were filled with books that were published recently too; retrospectives on the second World War and Korea sat next to tomes about the president and Margaret Thatcher. And while the record player had its own stand, the rest of the wall was taken up by an extensive and very modern entertainment center. The whole apartment was neat, but not overly so. A cup and a single plate sat in the drying rack next to the sink and the invitation to the Glory Gala was stuck to the fridge with a magnet shaped like the Statue of Liberty. You smiled at the invitation and turned to Steve. 

“Thanks for coming,” he said quietly. 

“Thanks for the invite,” you replied. 

“You get everything squared away?” he asked, looking for some sign of what you’d been up to. You sighed and draped your lab coat over the back of one of the chairs in his kitchen. “We’ll see.” Steve let the issue drop. 

“You tired?”

“Exhausted.” Steve took your hand and walked you into his dark bedroom. 

You paused in the doorway. “Um, Steve? I don’t have my overnight bag and…” you looked down at your clothes in the dark room. You could vaguely see Steve nod.

“Of course. You can borrow some of my stuff.” He moved through the lightless room with ease, pulling drawers open and shutting them again before arriving in front of you. “Here’s uh, some sweats. And a shirt that I shrunk by accident.” He seemed to see your grin, despite the dark. “In my defense, dryers have a lot of buttons. It took some trial and error to figure them out.” 

You stood on your tiptoes to kiss him.“They’re perfect.” 

Steve stood back and sat down on the bed, facing away from you. “I won’t look,” he promised. With everything that had happened recently, you knew that he’d seen more of you than not, but this felt different. You quickly shed your clothes in favor of his. “Okay, I’m decent.” You felt your way towards the bed, swearing when you stubbed a toe. Finally, you felt the soft comforter and Steve’s leg beneath it. Crawling into bed, you sighed and relaxed beneath the covers. You noticed that the comforter seemed thin, but after a couple of minutes you realized that you didn’t need to worry. His arms wrapped around you, wearing just a pair of sweatpants, Steve’s body radiated heat. Despite the t-shirt you were wearing and the minimal blankets covering you, you were plenty warm. Steve shifted and pushed a stray lock of hair away from your tired face. “S’everything okay?” You nodded and smiled. 

“It is now.”

 

The sun flowed in through a gap in the curtains, warming your face. Steve’s breathing was slow and steady next to your ear and his arm was solid against the skin of your stomach. Over the course of the night, the shirt he’d let you borrow had ridden up and his arm had moved to cover your bare skin. A breeze drifted in through the window and you snuggled in closer to Steve, reveling in the feeling of being rested for the first time in a long time. “G’morning,” he murmured from behind you. 

You groaned a little and pulled the covers over your head. “S’early,” you said petulantly. 

Steve chuckled and ran his fingers lightly across your stomach. “For all those early mornings in the lab, you’re not much of a morning lark, are you?” You shook your head and pressed in closer to Steve. “Hate mornings,” you muttered. 

Steve hummed and pressed against your back before nuzzling at your neck. “Maybe I can help change your mind.” You nodded wordlessly and turned your head to kiss him. Steve hummed again and continued to dance his hand across your body while kissing your lips and neck. You reached back and ran a hand through his hair as his hand moved up higher beneath your shirt. “This okay?” he asked. You nodded and pressed your ass against him, grinding a little into his growing hardness. 

“Don’t stop,” you ordered. Steve smiled into your neck.

“Yes ma’am.” He palmed your breast with a warm hand before running his thumb over your nipple. After a second, he pinched the bud and kissed your jaw. You sighed breathily as he continued to alternate between your breasts, first gentle then firm. A few minutes later, the both of you were breathless and his hand began to meander downwards again, but he stopped around your navel. Still grinding against his now fully erect length, you took his hand in yours and slipped it below your waistband. Following your lead, Steve dipped a finger between your legs. You whimpered a little and spread open to give him access. Steve pressed his finger against your clit and jerked against you when you let out a pleased yelp. 

You began to writhe against Steve as he worked his fingers against you. Spreading the growing wetness between your lips, he slipped a finger inside of you. You whimpered in pleasure. Steve’s long fingers quickly found your G-spot and he stroked it, slowly at first, then faster as your breathing and movements against his body sped up. You came around his fingers, whimpering in the morning light. Steve began to kiss the back of your neck as you came down, his fingers slowing to a stop. Twisting your body around to face him, you threw a leg over his hip and kissed him, hard. Steve gripped your ass through his sweatpants and began to grind back against you. You pulled your head back and looked at him. His pupils were blown, leaving only small rings of blue around their edges. His lips were reddened and his breathing stuttered as his body moved against yours, seeking friction. You dragged your thumb across his bottom lip, already missing the way his mouth tasted. “D’you wanna keep going?” you asked breathlessly. Steve looked at you blankly, but the realization dawned when you reached down and palmed his length. He nodded quickly and you grinned. “Protection?” Steve nodded and got out of bed and approached his dresser. He pulled a golden wrapped condom out of the top drawer. Your eyes followed the lines of his body down from his rounded pecs, past his chiseled abdomen, and into where the v of muscle at his pelvis disappeared into his sweatpants. Looking back up and making eye contact, you deliberately peeled his shirt off of your body. He mirrored your actions, tugging off his sweats before rolling the condom onto his length. You went to take off the pants you were wearing, but Steve stopped you, putting a knee on the bed next to you. He hooked his fingers around the band of the sweat pants and pulled downwards. Raising your hips off of the bed, you watched his lips part as he freed your legs and you were finally bared before him. 

You reached for him and he came to you, sliding into your arms and into your body. Your breath hitched at the stretch you felt and he paused, kissing you until your muscles relaxed around him. He began to move his hips, pulling almost all the way out before plunging back in. Your back arched in ecstasy, but you could tell that he was holding back. You wrapped your legs around his hips, locking him in place. “It’s okay, Steve. You can fuck me.” Below the sheen of sweat that covered his face, he blushed and looked vaguely concerned. Unhooking your legs, you pushed Steve’s shoulder, rolling the two of you over so that you were on top. Steve’s face changed as you began to ride him. Leaning forward, you kissed him, enjoying the way your breasts and clit rubbed against his body. 

You built him up slowly, grinding low and dirty before backing off and then doing it all over again. Steve’s hands roamed wondrously over your body as he thrusted in time with your motions. You could feel it when he finally let go of the military-like discipline that had ruled his movements. You bit your lip, holding your orgasm at bay until he grunted and came apart below you, moaning your name. You chased your completion and then relaxed into his arms. Still inside of you, he carefully moved so that you were both on your sides. 

He looked into your eyes. “Was-was that okay? I didn’t hurt you or-” You cut him off with a lingering kiss. “Thank you for sharing that with me. You are amazing. Are  _ you  _ okay with all of this?” You weren’t sure how much sex Steve had had in his life and you didn’t want to cause an existential crisis. Seeming to sense your thoughts, Steve smiled ruefully. “I’ve had sex before. Not often, but I have. The other times just never meant much.” 

You rested a hand on his cheek. “And today?”

Steve smiled. “It meant even more than I thought it would, which is sayin’ something.” 


	20. Now Everyone Knows

You each took a quick shower. After yours, you slipped back into your pants from the day before and borrowed another one of Steve’s shirts, tying it at the hip. Steve came up behind you and wrapped you in a hug. “You hungry?” he asked. “Everyone’s meeting in the common area for breakfast. Vision’s been teaching himself to cook. He’s got blueberry pancakes down pat.” You leaned back into Steve’s arms. “Blueberry pancakes  _ do  _ sound pretty good…”

“But?”

“Well, if I waltz into your shared kitchen wearing your shirt first thing in the morning, people are gonna know something’s up.” 

Steve turned you around so that you were facing him. “First of all, those ‘people’ are our friends and spies. They may not know how to keep their mouths shut, but they can keep a secret. And no one cares who I’m dating.” He paused, thinking. “Except maybe N’tasha, but I think she’s just relieved.” He took your hand and led you out of his apartment and into the team’s shared kitchen. 

“Eyyyy! The lovebirds have arrived!” Hawkeye called as the two of you walked in, hand in hand. Vision nodded at you from behind the counter, wearing an apron that read “I cook as good as I look.” Wanda was sitting on the counter, stealing blueberries from the bowl when Vision wasn’t looking. She smiled and waved as she popped one into her mouth. Sam was on his phone with his feet up on the table. Rhodey sat next to him reading a paper. He looked up when the two of you walked in, but instead of saying anything, he simply knocked Sam’s feet back onto the floor with a thump. “Hey! What are you, my- Ayyy! Steve!” Sam stood and walked over, clapping Steve on the back and shooting you a wink. “Look at you, swaggering in here. My man, my man!” Steve shot you a look, worried about your reaction, but you rolled your eyes and went to sit next to Natasha as Sam continued to grill Steve about last night. 

She sipped her espresso and raised a perfect eyebrow. “It’s hard to believe that they’re both decorated war heros and one of them is a century old.” You fidgeted a little when she turned her gaze toward you. “He’s really happy with you,” she said quietly. “It’s nice to see him have a purpose outside of the next op.” You blushed and watched Steve prepare two mugs of coffee. Natasha smiled knowingly. “Looks like the feeling’s mutual.” 

Steve set one of the mugs in front of you and sat between you and Sam just as Vision floated over with a huge tray of steaming pancakes. Everyone’s attention turned to breakfast as the drama of your appearance with Steve faded into the background. You settled into the hubbub of the room, laughing and joking with the rest of the team. They were starting to feel like family to you. You were all into your second round of pancakes when Tony arrived. Ignoring the food, he went straight for the coffee before sitting down at the head of the long table. You shot him a pointed look and nodded at his empty plate, mouthing the words “I’ll tell Pepper” at him. He rolled his eyes dramatically as he took a single pancake, but you noticed that he ended up eating two more.

“Alright children, settle down!” he sang. “I have a surprise for you all!” 

Clint spun a butter knife in one hand. “A raise?” he called out.

“A vacation!” called Rhodey. 

“Seconded,” Natasha said. “Tahiti.”

Steve nodded in agreement. “It’s a magical place.” 

Tony shot Natasha and Steve a troubled look before continuing. “No no, it’s better than all of those. I bring you…” Tony fanned a pile of folders in front of him, the paper clashing with the butter dish and pepper shaker. “More Hydra files!” Groans echoed around the table as Tony looked on with a smirk. “I just want you all to do your homework before we head out for our field trip. Cap,” Tony looked over at Steve. “Bring your gal pal with you. I hear Argentina is beautiful this time of year.” The complaints turned to whoops of joy as each member of the team grabbed a file. 

Leaving his file on the table, Steve bent to whisper in your ear. “You should head home and pack. I don’t wanna bore you, an’ besides. The faster we read these and get packed, the sooner we can get some more alone time.” You blushed and rose from the table. Leaning over, you kissed Steve, keeping your lips on his for just a  _ little  _ longer than you needed to. Straightening, you winked at Natasha, who saw the whole thing, and sauntered out of the room.

 

* * *

  
  


Back at home, you did some googling about the vague location Tony had mentioned. Now knowing what to pack, you threw some clothes and supplies in a bag and began to dig through your closet for your hiking boots. Looking at your freshly packed duffle sitting by the front door, you began to worry about your role on the trip. Picking the bag back up, you rearranged some items and slipped several magazines and a book inside, just in case you had some time to yourself while the rest of the team worked. You were in the middle of watering your plants in anticipation of your impromptu trip when someone knocked politely on your door. You pulled it open to find Happy waiting for you. You rolled your eyes. “Have I been summoned?” Happy inclined his head good naturedly. “Yes indeed. Are these your things?” You nodded and grabbed your rain jacket. 

“Yep! I’m ready!” 

Happy nodded approvingly. “You pack light.” 

You shrugged. “This kind of thing is much more my style. Galas are fun, but they’re a little stuffy for my taste.” Locking your door, you followed Happy out to the car. 

 

Upon your return to the facility, you stopped by your lab to check in on everything. After checking in with some of your technicians, you peeked into the locked closet in your back office. You had just started a new pet project when things got chaotic. Sighing, you threw a sheet over it to protect the technology from settling dust and relocked the door. Unsure of what to do with your free time, you went back upstairs to one of the glass walkways and watched trainees move through their drills on the the field below. Your stomach was filled with butterflies, a dramatic change from the mortal dread that you had felt these past few weeks. Trying to breathe through the sudden anxiety about following the Avengers into a new country on an op  _ and  _ going on vacation with your boyfriend for the first time, you reached up to run a hand through your hair. As you lowered your hand, you jumped when someone slipped a warm hand over your shoulder. By now, you recognized the heat and the calluses through your t-shirt. 

“You  _ have  _ to stop doing that. I nearly jumped out of my skin.” 

Steve chuckled. “Good. I know that look: you’re getting sucked into that big mind of yours. You needed to be pulled out.” Sighing, you turned to face him. He smiled gently and pulled your face towards him for a kiss. “I still think you need to wear a bell or something,” you muttered, but you couldn’t stay mad at the man for long. His eyes crinkled around the edges and he took your hand, leading you upstairs. “I’ll try anything once,” he commented. 

 

Back in the common area, you were surprised to see that you had packed the lightest out of everyone; it turns out that superheroes carry a lot of stuff. Steve dropped several army issue duffels next to his shield, while Clint and Natasha both sported hiking packs with several other cases for their weapons. Tony, of course, had a pile of Louis Vuitton bags along with a stack of tech cases stamped with Stark Industries logos. Sam had a bag bearing the USAF logo and what looked like the biggest hockey equipment case you had ever seen. Seeing your look of astonishment, Sam pulled a face. “What?! Me and Redwing fly First Class only. I like to keep an eye on all of my shit!” Steve helped Sam to position his things next to all of the other supplies. “Okay you guys, no need for this to get heated.” You chuckled and left your lone bag next to Steve’s. “Yeah Sam. No need to get your tail feathers in a ruffle.” Sam rolled his eyes and patted his precious cargo. 

Leaning against the wall, you shrieked when Vision materialized out of the wall beside you. Everyone’s hands went to their nearest weapon, but they all relaxed when Vision lowered himself to the floor. “My apologies, Y/N. Sometimes I forget that my entrances tend to...startle guests.” Cracking up, you shook your head.

“It’s fine, Vision. I just didn’t expect it.” 

Vision smiled at you. “I’m sure you will grow used to it in time.” You started to blush at the implication of you spending more time there when Wanda walked in with just a backpack. Looking around the room and then down at his watch, Tony announced “That’s all of us. Roll out, troops!” 

“Is Colonel Rhodes not coming?” you asked as you followed Steve and the rest out with your things. From the front of the group, Tony called back. “Rhodey’s got to go back to work. The government’s so picky about stuff like that.” On your way past operations, another man stepped in line with the rest of you, sliding an earpiece into place. You noticed the rest of the team looking at the newest addition with suspicion, but Tony didn’t seem care. When you were all on the helipad on the roof, Tony stood in front of the quinjet. “Everyone, this is Daryl. Daryl, these are the Avengers. Don’t try to feed them, they bite. Daryl speaks twelve languages and has a degree in something vaguely useful from somewhere that’s not MIT. S’that it? That’s it, let’s go.” Tony turned on his heel and ascended the ramp up into the aircraft. 

Daryl chatted as everyone stowed their gear and settled in. As you tried to figure out the futuristic seat belt system, you overheard him talking to Clint. “I actually speak thirteen counting Esperanto.” As Steve reached over to help you out, you watched Sam do his best to look politely interested while, up front, Tony rolled his eyes. Natasha and Clint ran through takeoff procedures and then, with a rumble beneath your feet, the quinjet took off. 

Steve squeezed your hand. “You doin’ okay? I know this is a lot.” You squeezed back.

“Yeah, but it’s a good ‘a lot’, ya know?” Steve smiled and then turned to listen as Sam was describing his latest exploits. Next to you, Wanda bumped you with her elbow. 

“Is this your first time flying in one of these things?” she asked. You nodded. 

“Yeah, but I’ve been up in choppers and stuff, so it’s not too bad.” 

“I hate flying. Always have. Well, I mean, I didn’t get into a plane until I was a teenager, but still.” 

“But can’t you like,  _ actually  _ fly?” She shrugged and crossed one leg over the other. 

“Yeah, but it’s different. Somehow, shooting through the sky in a giant tin can doesn’t feel any safer than using my powers.” You chuckled together, and you both relaxed a little when the craft reached cruising altitude and Natasha and Clint set it to autopilot. Unbuckling yourself, you pulled the latest issue of Popular Mechanics out of your bag and started flipping through it. Next to you, Steve was steadily reading a copy of the bestselling biography of Alexander Hamilton. Leaning against his arm, the two of you read in peace until the rest of the team got bored. “Nerds!” coughed Clint into his hand. Even Natasha chuckled as she tenderly cleaned a scary looking gun. Tony looked up from his phone. “I told him I could get him tickets to go see it on Broadway, but-” 

Steve looked up.  “Hey! I wanted to read it first, so no spoilers!” Everyone groaned. 

“It happened like, two hundred years ago, Steve.” Sam pointed out. “I think that the Constitution is a pretty big spoiler.” 

“Still,” Steve said with a good natured shrug. “I’m still catchin’ up. This one is high on my list.” 

Ironically sporting a pair of rose-colored glasses, Tony affixed an eye on you. “And what about you? You must know that half of that is just pop-science bull.” It was your turn to shrug. 

“I like to see what other people are coming up with. And besides. I went to school with a lot of these scientists. I like to keep an eye on them, just in case I need to ask for a favor.” Tony didn’t seem to have a retort, so he left you alone. Steve peeked at the glossy cover of the magazine, his eyes scanning for terms he could recognize. “Do they really have self driving cars?” he asked skeptically. 

“I do!” Tony called out. You waved a hand at him.

“They do, but I wouldn’t necessarily get into one of them.”

 

Two hours into the flight, your eyes grew heavy and you snuggled into Steve and began to doze. Steve shifted so he could wrap an arm around your shoulder. “You guys up late?” Sam asked suggestively. You could practically feel him waggling his eyebrows at Steve. And you could also feel Steve shake his head before stilling so that you could sleep. “I swear Wilson…” he hissed. You smiled a little before drifting off. 

You woke up a couple hours later. As your eyes opened and you stretched, Steve yawned and rubbed his eyes. Everyone else had either fallen asleep too or had moved away, leaving you and Steve to sleep. As you stuck the magazine back into your bag, you noticed Clint looking at you oddly. “What?” you said as Steve moved to show Daryl where the bathroom was.

“He never sleeps like that. We flew back from  _ Russia  _ with no stops and he was bright eyed and bushy tailed the entire time.” You watched Steve slip back into his captain persona as he requested updates from Sam and Natasha. “Well. Don’t you think he deserves some moments of peace?” Clint shot you a genuine smile, maybe his first with you. 

“I do. I’m just glad to see it’s finally happening.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes I forget where Anthony Mackie ends and Sam Wilson begins...


	21. Into the Woods

You touched down in a clearing in a forest in southern Argentina. Stepping out of the quinjet and onto solid ground, you spun in a circle while you looked at your surroundings. The sun’s warmth helped to alleviate the slight chill in the air. The clearing was just big enough to fit the quinjet before it melted back into forest. Everyone began trekking through the trees. Huge ferns covered the ground and tall trees reached for the sky. The sounds of insects and birds echoed around you, your progress through the forest pausing their songs only momentarily before they returned to singing in your wake. Natasha and Clint both had their weapons at the ready, while Tony led the group following a readout on his glasses. After travelling by foot for a few minutes, Wanda and Vision both took to the skies for a better view. Sam seemed like he would have liked to have joined, but his wings weren’t built for taking off between trees. Instead, he walked with you and Steve and the three of you joked and chatted as you made your way north. Understandably intimidated by Clint and Natasha and their accompanying weapons, Daryl drifted towards your little group and began to chat. 

It turned out that he graduated from Stanford with degrees in political science and several languages. You could tell that he was a nervous talker, but after he grew used to being in Steve and Sam’s presence, you learned that he was dedicated and kind. He had been recruited to S.H.I.E.L.D. right out of school. He’d gone to Sokovia to help with relief efforts after Ultron decimated the area and then to Vienna to translate for the accords. Rhodey and Maria had forced Tony to bring him along in case the team needed to speak with any locals. You guessed that Tony had wanted to use his translation software, but the other senior officials made him take someone better equipped to handle the intricacies of various dialects. The four of you didn’t have a lot in common, but you managed to fill the time with pleasant conversation until you arrived at your destination. 

The cabin was sprawling. Well, it was less of a cabin and more of a treehouse. With stilted legs meant to protect its inhabitants from the damp ground, a series of walkways connected several smaller buildings to each other. Covered in moss and interwoven with vines and leaves, the structure was clearly old. But you noticed a childlike glint in everyone’s eyes as they approached the construction. “Is it secure?” asked Natasha as she looked around. 

“It will be,” Tony answered looking skyward. Just as Wanda and Vision touched down, the sound of engines filled the air. Three of Tony’s suits followed soon after, carrying the bulk of the team’s gear that had been left in the quinjet. After gently depositing the supplies at the foot of the cabin’s stairs, the three empty suits took up positions around the perimeter of the site, their heads swiveling. Natasha and Clint put their weapons away and then Clint bounded up the wooden stairs yelling “I call dibs on the tallest one!” Natasha shook her head as Sam took off after him. Shouldering her backpack, Wanda ran her hand over the railing. “This place is old,” she murmured. “Lots of history here.” 

Steve slipped an arm around your waist. “Whaddya think, doll?”

You gazed up at the small structures nestled in the trees and listened as Sam and Clint’s whoops of joys made their way through the foliage. “I wish all of your ops could be like this.” Steve leaned down to kiss you and Tony groaned loudly. 

Everyone made their way to the highest room. “Where’s Barton?” Steve asked looking around, seeing only green around him. Some branches outside of the huge, glass-less windows rustled and Clint’s head and shoulders popped out. “We’re only like ten feet from the top of the canopy, you guys. If you follow this branch up, you can see everything for  _ miles _ . Even Vision thinks it’s cool.” Natasha was the first one out the window. Sam was next, obviously itching to spread his wings. Steve looked over at you. You shook your head, smiling ruefully. “I think I’ll keep my feet on solid ground this time. But go check it out. I know you love this kind of thing.” Steve grinned and kissed your cheek before disappearing into the treetops. 

You and Wanda were the only two left in the room. “Aren’t you going to go up there?” you asked. Wanda shrugged. Stretching out on a rough hewn chair next to one of the windows, you looked long and hard at Wanda. You were about to say something when Daryl walked in. “There you are! Well, some of you at least. Where’s everyone else?” You nodded to the window and then pointed skyward. Daryl swallowed hard and shook his head. “Not for me. No ma’am.” Gesturing to the seat next to you, he asked “Mind if I join you ladies?” You nodded and Daryl settled in next to you. Daryl looked over at you out of the corner of his eye. “So are you an Avenger or…” 

You snorted.  “Not even close. I’m just a...close friend.”

“I see.” The polyglot sounded skeptical. You shrugged and leaned back, closing your eyes and listening to your friends on the rooftop. Next to you, you heard Daryl sit up and say something to Wanda in her native language. Then, silence. After a long, awkward moment you opened your eyes and turned to face Wanda. “You okay, Wanda?” 

The younger woman had gone pale. She made a choking noise before replying. “I-I haven’t heard that dialect in a long time.” 

Daryl shrugged modestly. “I picked up when I was working in Sokovia. It’s a beautiful language, one of my favorite Slavic languages actually.” You could tell that he would have gone on, but Wanda stood up abruptly and left the room, heading down towards the ground level. Daryl looked concerned. “Did I say something?” 

Standing, you put a hand on his shoulder. “It’s nothing personal. She just has a lot of memories about Sokovia.” You followed Wanda out, stopping outside when you realized that you didn’t know where she went. You looked skyward and saw nothing before you noticed a flash of red through the trees around the side of the nearest building. Following it, you soon heard the bubbling of a small stream and saw Wanda perched on a rock. Her hands were ringed in red as she manipulated a ribbon of water with a far away expression. Sitting down next to her, you waited in silence as she worked through her memories. After a while, her hands stopped and the water flowed back into the stream. You looked up when she sighed. The sound was full of the weariness and pain of a much older person. 

“You’re allowed to forgive yourself,” you said quietly. Wanda scoffed. 

“What do you know of forgiveness?” 

“I know loss. And I know survivor’s guilt. The man I love carries a whole lot of it on his shoulders. Hell, I’ve felt it and I haven’t even saved the world.” Wanda looked over at you, the anger and resentment leaching out of her face, leaving exhaustion and pain in its wake. “This was a choice. This was  _ my  _ choice. I’m living with it every day.”

“You’re doing something, but I don’t know if it qualifies as living,” you commented softly. “You have done so much good and you have grown so much because of the choices you’ve made.”

“But-” Wanda began.

“No buts!” you cut her off. “You're allowed to accept your changes and to let them into your life. Half of them got to where they are now by choice! Tony, Steve, Sam, Rhodey. They all made choices that gave them strength and power. And yeah, they fucked up along the way. But Tony still has his suits, and Steve hasn’t quit to start a bakery or something.” Wanda snorted quietly as you continued. “Just because you’re a woman, or you’re younger, or because you didn’t have some universally noble call to action doesn’t mean that you’re any less worthy of your powers and your role on this team.” You looked over at her as she finally met your eyes. “It’s okay to join them, you’re part of their family.” Wanda raised an eyebrow. “Okay, it’s a screwed up, ragtag family,” you qualified. “But they’re yours and you are theirs. Even Tony, for as much as he grandstands. And I know for a fact that Steve thinks of you as his little sister.” You wrapped an arm around her. “You’re part of this dysfunctional little family, whether you like it or not.” Wanda leaned into your embrace for a second before reaching up to wipe her eyes. 

“I don’t think I’ve had this kind of heart to heart in a long time. Certainly not with the rest of them.” You rolled your eyes so hard you practically saw your brain. 

“Trust me, I’ve worked with soldiers and vets for years. You can’t let the “manliness” stop you from figuring shit out. Everyone has a breaking point. I let my feelings out in little spurts so that it doesn’t build up.” 

“Spurts?” Wanda repeated.

“Okay, so maybe there’s a more poetic way of putting it,” you began. 

In front of you both, Vision slowly descended until he was hovering before you. “Agent Barton wanted me to relay the message ‘Chow is up’ to you both.” Suddenly hungry, you slipped off of the rock and into the water with a splash. The three of you walked back to the cabins and joined everybody for dinner. You sat next to Steve, your shoulder touching his as you ate the modified MRE’s that Clint had concocted. “Leave some room!” Tony ordered. “I brought dessert!” He waved a pastel colored package in the air. 

You squinted. “Are those-?” 

Next to him Natasha snatched the package out of his hands and inspected it. “Yep. Macarons. And there are approximately three of them.” Everybody groaned as Tony took the cookies back and delicately opened them. Leaning away from you, Steve reached into his duffel and pulled out a box, a squishy looking bag, and several smaller packages. “I brought stuff for s’mores.” Everybody cheered, even Tony, and descended on Steve for supplies. You pulled Steve into a kiss. “You’re pretty amazing, you know that?” you asked. Steve drew you into his arms and the two of you shared one of the messy creations. 

That night, you roomed with Wanda and Natasha, while the guys split themselves up amongst the remaining cabins. While disappointed about your separation from Steve, you were also glad that it was depriving the others of gossip material, at least for a little while. As everyone prepared for bed, Steve pulled you into a shadowy corner and pressed his lips hungrily to yours. As the sounds of everyone else faded away, the only things that filled your senses came from Steve. His hands as they moved across your body searching for the warmth of your bare skin; the sweet taste of his tongue against yours; and the smell of the fire that now mingled with his own scent. Your mouth eventually strayed from his lips and down his jaw towards his neck. Tugging the collar of his shirt down, you sucked hard on a patch of his soft skin, finding little purchase over his taut muscles. After a minute or so, you raised your head and surveyed your work. “What is it?” he asked raggedly. 

You grinned and ran your tongue over the spot as it reddened. “I wasn’t sure if super soldiers could get hickeys. I wanted to leave you with a reminder.” You bit your lip. “It’ll probably be gone by morning, huh?” Steve looked down at the bruise as it formed and you smiled, satisfied, when you noticed the heat in his eyes grow. He picked you up and you wrapped your legs around his waist. Pressing you up against the wooden wall, he returned the favor, taking the time to leave a tender mark on the curve of one of your breasts. 

“You’ll just have to do it again tomorrow,” he said, wickedly sweet. You took his face in both of your hands and kissed him breathlessly. Part of you wanted more contact, wanted to rip his clothes away and take him right there. Steve seemed to feel the same conflict because he pulled his face away from yours with a frustrated sigh. “We’re figuring out watch shifts soon.” You nodded and loosened your legs, allowing him to lower you back down to the floor. 

You pulled his shirt back into its correct position and patted his hair back down. “Don’t forget about me, soldier.” Steve backed up and held your hand in yours before dropping it and stepping away.

“Never.”


	22. Casualty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a couple of content warnings: BRIEF mentions of almost throwing up (mostly words like "retching"); mentions of Nazis. Also descriptions of blood and violence, but it's pretty canon typical. This is a long chapter, sorry folks.

The next morning after eating a quick breakfast, you and the team packed your hiking bags and set off deeper into the forest. Everyone was wearing their stealth and fighting gear, even though nobody expected to use it. As much as you loved seeing Steve in his blue suit, you felt unsettled and out of place. You all moved through the trees as quietly as possible now that you were approaching an enemy target. Steve seemed to sense your discomfort and adhered his shield to his back before taking your hand in his. Seeing this, Clint stepped behind you so that he could cover your backs. 

All in all, it was a beautiful hike. A light rain began a few hours in, but thanks to the foliage, only a few droplets and some mist made it to the ground. You pushed your sunglasses to the crown of your head, where they could keep your hair out of your face. As you all looked around, Tony put a fist up, signalling everyone to stop. Bending over, he moved some branches and a thick mat of vines away, revealing a rusted metal hatch. Using a red and gold plated arm, Tony flexed and ripped the doors open. “You two stay here,” Steve ordered. You nodded and waited with Daryl as the rest of the team headed into the depths of the newly discovered bunker. Only Vision stayed behind to stand guard. Besides Tony, Vision was probably the best conversational partner for Daryl. You watched with interest as the two conversed, switching between languages like they were changing the stations on a radio. Daryl’s smile widened and Vision seemed genuinely interested. You sat on the ground beneath a tree and pulled out a granola bar. You were munching happily when Natasha stuck her head out of the bunker. “All clear! You can come see if you want. Daryl, Tony might need you in a sec.” Following after Vision, you and Daryl gingerly stepped through the doors and into the dank air of the bunker. 

The dirt walls of the ceiling were crumbling in places, having been pierced by the root systems of nearby trees. Despite the wear and tear, the design scheme was clear: Hydra and Nazi memorabilia covered the walls. You flinched at the imagery, sickened by the pride with which the photos, flags, and medals were hung. Leaning in to look at one of the objects, you noticed that it was stuck to the wall with purple duct tape. Natasha came to stand beside you. “The photos are old, but someone stuck them up here recently.” You nodded and continued down the dim hallway, passing rooms with empty bunks along the way. The whole thing felt eery and wrong somehow. You shuddered, but kept walking towards the voices of the rest of the team as they investigated. You were almost to the open door at the end of the hall when you heard Clint speak. “What’s this you guys?” A metal door protested as he pried something opened and the whole bunker was filled with a putrid smell. 

“Barton!” yelled Steve and Tony in unison. You would have laughed if you weren’t already gagging. Eyes watering, you did your best not to inhale as you backed away from the source. 

“Found the fridge!” Clint called out. Daryl leaned down and retched, feeling along the wall as he fled the room. 

“We’ll be right outside!” you managed to call out as you ran towards fresh air. 

“Copy that!” responded Natasha. Vision was nonplussed as he floated towards the rest of the team, leaving you and Daryl to find your way out.

Back outside, you and Daryl both sucked air into your lungs. You reached into your pocket and pulled out a stick of mint gum and handed it to the interpreter. Wordlessly, he popped it into his mouth, nodding his thanks. You clapped him on the back and took a piece for yourself. Sticking your hand out in front of you, you noticed that the rain had stopped. The air around you was clear, clean, and quiet. It took you a moment too long to realize that the birdsong had stopped for a reason. You opened your mouth to call out to the team, when something whizzed by your head, impacting on the ground behind you. Grabbing Daryl by the collar of his coat, you dove behind a boulder as more bullets began to rain down. You wished that you had asked for a comm as you wondered if the pops of the bullets would reach the subterranean rooms where the rest of the team waited. 

Daryl sat beside you shaking. You grabbed his hand and the two of you shook together, unsure of what to do. “Stay low,” you hissed. He nodded with wide eyes. As the angle of the bullets began to change, you took your chance. Prodding at Daryl’s side, you pointed to a huge, moss covered tree trunk. He nodded and the two of you dashed across the clearing. Someone above you shouted something in Spanish and the shooting paused. You heard boots cross the forest floor, thankfully away from your position. Daryl cocked his head, listening to their conversation. Kneeling, he moved closer to them. “What the hell are you doing?” you demanded. 

He held a hand up to quiet you as the men with guns began to yell up to someone. “Their Spanish, it’s accented all wrong. Some of them are Argentines or Chileans, but the others…” he trailed off. You heard more yelling and then the sound of a different projectile. An arrow embedded itself in a tree a few yards away from you. You sagged with relief as you heard the sound of boots on dirt as the Avengers ran to the surface. But Daryl was still preoccupied. One voice authoritatively called out to the others and Daryl’s face lit up in recognition. “That’s it!” he cried. “He’s German!” You were prepared to question Daryl further when the trees facing you quaked and a shot rang out. There was a pop and a crunch as Daryl’s head snapped back and he crumpled to the ground. You turned to him in horror as blood trickled from a wound in his hairline, the expression of triumph still on his face. You pressed two fingers to his carotid, but it was a reflex. He was gone. 

You didn’t have time to mourn, or even to panic as the rest of the team burst out of the bunker and began returning fire. Suddenly the air was filled with twice as many bullets, as well as blaster fire and arrows. “Y/N!” Steve yelled. You wanted to run to him, but stopped yourself, digging your nails through the layer of moss and into the bark of the tree you had fled towards. The air exploded next to your ear as another bullet lodged into the tree, spraying bark and moss into your face. You screamed and lunged away from the trunk. Keeping yourself as small as possible, you ran for the shelter of another tree, catching sight of Tony as he fired into the forest. You began to wonder why his backup suits hadn’t flown into to rescue everyone, but you didn’t have time to finish your thought. More bullets made the ground around your feet into mulch as you danced away, trying in vain to triangulate where the shooter sat. All you knew was that the bullets were coming from high up, probably a tree. Your heart pounded in your chest, the beats running together into a roar in your ears. Skidding to a stop behind a tree, you stopped when you thought you heard Steve scream your name. You looked around in a panic and flinched when something huge and flat screamed through the air, ricocheting off of trees before thudding to a stop inches above your head. Looking up, you realized that it was Steve’s shield just as a hail of gunfire pounded into it. Looking around several trees, you saw Steve wilt with relief when he made eye contact with you. Wanda appeared next to him, her hands and eyes glowing red. Fingers gracefully poised, she jerked her arms and a strangled scream ripped through the forest before a body crashed to the ground next to you, his rifle landing next to him. 

As your mind and body rebelled against the shock that they wanted to slip into, you watched the fight raging around you with a sense of detached objectivity; the team fought beautifully. Natasha seemed to dance with her opponents, wrapping a limb around them before snapping their neck. It appeared merciful, but you knew that she was just dispatching them as efficiently as possible. Clint’s bow might as well have been an extension of his body. When he wasn’t plucking arrows from his quiver, he wielded his weapon like a staff, using it to counterbalance his body weight as he swung around to kick someone in the throat. Wanda multitasked as she dispatched her targets; bands of red magic would surround two or three men at once before crushing them or smashing them together. Vision methodically targeted and destroyed enemies using the stone that glowed from his forehead while Tony seemed to favor using a variety of projectiles all emanating from his suit. In the closeness of the forest, Sam used his wings to propel him forward instead of flying. 

And that left Steve. Your beautiful, soulful Steve. You’d seen him angry, felt his muscles tense below your hands, but seeing him in action was something else entirely. He fought like a gymnast, every move perfectly balanced before flowing into his next attack. He was breathtaking as he jumped and twisted, shouting orders the entire time. But his blocks were missing something, you realized. His shield still sat lodged in the tree above you. Thinking more about his vulnerability than your own, you stood and wrenched the vibranium disk out of the tree. Slipping your arm through the straps in the back, you gauged the direction and distance to Steve and ducked behind his shield. Hoping like hell that your legs would make poor targets, you plowed towards him. Bullets rang out as another gunman took aim at the shield. Each shot shook your arm and vibrated through your shoulder, but you ignored the ache and kept going. What felt like millenia later, the sounds of Steve’s shouts grew closer and closer. Angling your arm so that you could see around the shield, you slid to a stop in front of him just as a bullet bounced off the edge of the shield. Steve flashed you a look that contained a million emotions before nodding curtly. You slid your arm out of the loops and went to hand him the shield. Out of nowhere, a man holding a tarnished and pitted rifle took aim at you. The bubble of blue energy the weapon emitted hit the star in the center of Steve’s shield. No longer strapped to your arm, the energy that rebounded off of the vibranium transferred to you. Steve caught his shield as your body was thrown backwards like a rag doll. The world spun as your head made contact with the bunker door with a crack. You gasped for breath and struggled to stand, or even to roll for cover. Heaving, you pushed yourself up only to collapse again as a bullet tore into your abdomen. The force threw you backwards again, but this time you stayed down. 

Pressing your hand against your bleeding stomach your gaze drifted skyward as the man who shot you grabbed a rope and began to rise. The rest of the team focused on him, but he was gone within a minute. After the helicopter veered off, laying down coverfire as it went with Tony in hot pursuit, the forest clearing grew quiet around you. Realizing that the worst of it was over, you allowed yourself a moment to rest. But the moment turned into two and you realized that shock was overpowering your adrenaline. The hand you were using to press against your wound soon became too heavy to handle, so you let it slide to the ground. Footsteps pounded towards you and Steve’s head appeared in your field of vision. He tore off his helmet and leaned down before noticing your wound. “Shit. Stay with me, Y/N, you hear?” You tried to smile, but that seemed to take a lot of energy, so you decided to close your eyes instead. Suddenly Natasha and Clint were there. Clint dug his fingers into your shoulder and shook you a little. Somewhere out of your field of vision, you could hear Natasha speaking quickly to someone as she began to apply pressure to your stomach. You wished that everyone would just give you a minute to think. You wanted to tell Clint to get his fingers off of you and you wanted Natasha to stop pressing so hard. You tried to say as much, but all that came out was a whimper. You cried out again as they pushed beneath you searching for an exit wound.  “This thing could have bounced around inside her. We need imaging  _ now. _ ” 

The world tilted as Steve pulled you into his arms. “I’ve got you, doll,” he whispered. The change in posture made it more difficult to speak as liquid trickled up your throat and into your mouth. You sputtered and spots of red appeared on Steve’s face. He blanched and you began to cough and cry. “You need to sit her up more!” Natasha ordered. Steve stopped walking and shifted you so that your head was nestled under his chin. You managed to raise a bloodied hand and dig your fingers into the material of his suit. You tried to speak, but your body was quickly becoming disconnected from your mind. “Shhhh, we’re getting you outta here.” You watched Sam exchange a few terse words with Tony before flying off in the direction of the quinjet. Not wanting to abandon a team member, you craned your head as best you could. “D-Daryl,” you cried out. 

“We’ll get ‘im, doll, it’s okay. Just focus on you, okay?” He didn’t understand. You had to make him understand. 

You were crying harder now, salty tears mingling with blood and sweat. “Behind the tree,” you managed to slur. Steve nodded at Clint, turning so you both could see his progress. 

Clint disappeared behind the first tree you had hidden behind. He reappeared, grimly holding Daryl’s limp body. Steve’s face crumpled for a moment, but he steeled himself to look back at you. Your smile trembled and broke when, next to you, Natasha pushed hard on the dressing. “These aren’t doing anything, Steve. She’s gonna bleed out. She needs the patch kit on the jet.” She paused, listening to something you couldn’t hear. “Sam says there’s too many trees to land and he’d be almost ten minutes out at the nearest landing spot. We need to transfer her while it’s in the air.”

Vision stepped forward, his bright red face easily visible to your quickly dimming vision. “I will take her up to the quinjet,” he said quietly. “We can begin first aid while the rest of you ascend.” Steve paused for a millisecond before stepping close to Vision so that he could transfer you into his arms. Some fuzzy, fading part of your mind recognized that this might be your last moments with Steve. You cried out and clawed at him with the last of your strength, not wanting to leave his embrace. Steve’s heart broke in his eyes as he pried your clammy fingers from his his collar. He laid a kiss across your knuckles, whispering to you. “I’ll be right there, doll. I promise.” Then he was gone and you were moving quickly through the air. 

As you approached the quinjet as it hovered above the forest, you finally stopped fighting unconsciousness. The next time you opened your eyes, the quinjet was in motion. Natasha and Clint moved around the lower half of your body. Clint slung a bag of saline over a hook on the wall and you guessed that the other end was pushing fluids back into your body. Steve leaned over and brushed a finger over your cheek. “Hey there,” he said evenly, though his eyes were frantic. “We’re on our way to Santiago for a quick stop, and then we’ll head home.” Your eyes roamed the cabin. “Everyone’s here. We’re all fine, just a little banged up.” Except for Daryl. Tears leaked out of your eyes. And then suddenly, you were in pain. You tried to swallow your cries, but they escaped from between your lips. As the saline flowed through your veins and your mind cleared a little, you were acutely aware of the rest of your body. You twisted in Steve’s grasp, trying to escape the fire that started in your belly and worked its way to the rest of your chest. “She’s feeling it,” Clint announced as Steve did his best to calm you. Natasha peeled the backing off of a medical patch and applied it to the skin that they had revealed when they cut away the clothes from your wound. It took a second, but soon the painkillers were coursing through your system. Your head lolled and your breathing slowed as your body began to grow numb. Your surroundings began to melt together. Someone rearranged the wires and tubes flowing from your limbs to pull you into their arms. You could smell Steve so you didn’t bother opening your eyes. He whispered wordless sentences as you succumbed again to sleep, favoring it over the nausea and confusion that threatened to overwhelm you.


	23. Home Again, Home Again

The rhythmic calls of katydids and a chorus of crickets guided you from sleep. Your limbs felt like lead, so you sat for awhile, picking the sounds around you apart. The longer you listened, the more you could hear. Voices murmured behind a door. Opening your eyes and letting them adjust, you realized that it was nighttime. You could see dozens of small flashing indicator lights around you. And there were several forms draped around the room. Two were dozing against each other on a couch, one was languishing on the broad windowsill. And one large body was crushed into the chair beside your bed, his hand gently cupping your own . Still unreasonably exhausted and disoriented, you didn’t move. A few minutes later there was a tap on the door. A nurse stepped quietly to your bedside and flipped on a small light, illuminating only your face and chest. You knew the nurse from before, when Steve was in your place. “Welcome back,” he said warmly as he checked your I.V.s and vitals. Steve jerked awake and sighed with relief he saw you were awake. The nurse left to find a doctor, leaving you alone for a moment. Steve sat up and held your hand as best he could with the I.V. lines attached. “How’re you feeling?” he asked anxiously. 

You took a deep, shuddering breath and rasped out. “M’fine, Steve.” He didn’t seem to believe you until the on-call doctor came in and checked you, listing your injuries as she went. The bullet had perforated your stomach, leaving tissue damage along the way. You’d lost a lot of blood and had a concussion from when you were thrown backward. You grimaced as the doctor pressed on your tender stomach, but she announced that you were responding nicely to the surgery and meds. She bravely affixed Steve with a stern look, ordering him to let you get some rest before she left, leaving you alone with your friends. Wanda and Clint sat up from the couch as Natasha turned to face you on the windowsill. 

“Finally,” Clint said, but he looked tired and worried. 

Wanda hurried to your side and pulled you into a gentle hug. “I’m so glad you’re okay,” she whispered. 

“Alright guys, let’s go get her some ice chips.” Natasha stood and stretched like a cat as she ordered everyone else out of the room. On her way by, she placed a hand on your leg and squeezed gently, and then smiled as she closed the door. Now alone, you turned your head on the pillow. You managed to raise a hand to Steve’s cheek, and ran a finger over the stubble that had grown there. You were about to say something when Steve turned and kissed your palm, tears running down his face. “You scared the hell outta me, Y/N,” he said. “I-I could feel your breathing slow down on the way to the first hospital, and then they wouldn’t let me see you, an-and when we finally got you home and I came in...you had t-tubes in your mouth and your nose and comin’ out of your arms!” His words came out in a jumble and ended in a sob. You’d never seen Steve like this before and your heart broke as you watched him fall apart. He buried his face in his hands, his shoulders shaking as you ran your hand through his hair. 

When his sobs had subsided, he looked up at you, his eyes reddened and tired. “I’ve never been so scared in my life.” You didn’t have anything left to say. 

The door cracked open and Wanda stuck her head inside, holding a plastic cup filled with ice chips. Steve rose and took them, bidding your friends goodnight. Wanda didn’t say anything about his puffy eyes, she only gave Steve a quick hug and smiled at you before leaving. Steve sat and watched as you carefully sucked on an ice cube, letting the cool water soothe your sore throat. “I’m sorry,” you whispered. He put a knee on the bed beside you and leaned in to give you a careful kiss before tucking your hair behind your ears. “Wartime doesn’t have anything on watching something happen to the woman you lo-” Steve cut himself off. 

Using the last of your strength, you sat forward and returned Steve’s kiss. “I love you too, Steve.” 

 

* * *

 

You woke up late the next morning. Steve was still sitting by your side, this time reading a magazine with a slight frown. You turned your head and chuckled. “Guess I’m starting to rub off on you, huh?” Steve closed the last issue of Popular Mechanics and blushed a little. 

“I grabbed it for you from your bag, and I thought I’d take a look to see what all the fuss is about.”  
“And?” you asked, wondering what he thought of it. Instead, Steve yawned deeply. “That bad, huh?” 

“No doll, it’s just…”

“He hasn’t really slept since you got back.”

“Or showered!” 

Tony and Clint entered your hospital room. You looked over at Steve accusingly. “You haven’t slept in four days?” Steve shrugged, but another yawn gave him away and his stomach growled for good measure. “Go get some sleep,” you ordered, your authoritative tone dampened by your scratchy throat and general weakness. 

Steve nodded reluctantly. “Only if one of you stays with her while I’m gone.” Tony nodded solemnly. “Vision’s worked out a visiting schedule and everything.” Steve kissed you goodbye and left the room. Tony threw open the shades and set a flower pot with an orchid on the windowsill. “From Pepper. I was going to bring you breakfast from my favorite restaurant, but the doctor said you were on a clear liquids only diet, so. Yeah.” Clint had picked up your magazine and seemed to be hiding behind it as Tony stood uncomfortably off to your side. “You really scared us,” he said. 

“That’s what everyone keeps telling me.” 

“You picked up his shield.”

“Had to.”

Tony cocked his head and looked at you with an expression you couldn’t read. “Mmmno, you didn’t,” he decided. 

You rolled your eyes and the regretted it when your headache flared up. Pressing a hand to your temple you growled out. “I wasn’t going to let Steve fight without it. I made it over to him okay.”  
“Except for the part where you were thrown across the forest.”

“Oh yeah. I’d forgotten about that part.”  
“Sarcasm. A good sign,” Tony said condescendingly. 

“I’ll show you a good sign,” you muttered. 

Tony dragged a chair over and managed to sit in it backwards, bringing him closer to you while still trying to remain casual. “What you did was remarkably stupid. So stupid in fact, that it seems like the kind of thing one of us would do.” 

You snorted. “Yeah well, I learn from the best.”

Tony looked at you calculatingly. “We’ll be keeping an eye on you.” He stood abruptly and left without another word. You couldn’t help but marvel at how much had been said between the two of you, using so few snarky words. 

On the other side of your bed, Clint lowered your magazine. “You okay?” he asked, and you knew that he was referring to your conversation with Tony more than your injuries. You sighed and relaxed against your pillows. “Yeah, I guess. How’s everyone else doing? Was anyone else hurt?” Clint shook his head.

“Not really. We got thrown around a little but we’re all fine.” Clint pulled something out of his jacket pocket. “I uh, found these next to Daryl’s body.” You took your sunglasses from Clint’s outstretched hand, turning them over to look at the now cracked lenses. “You were sitting right next to him, weren’t you?” Clint asked gravely. 

You nodded, tears falling from your eyes as you remembered the expression on his face. “He didn’t even see it coming. He was still so proud that-” Your head snapped up and you looked at Clint. “He wanted you to know that most of the guys there were South American, but one of them, the leader. He was German.” Clint’s eyes widened and you knew that this was news to him. You could tell that he was itching to go use the new intel but that he was hesitant to leave. “It’s okay, Clint, you can go. I just wanted to know. Did you get in contact with his mom? She’s from Maine and she’s really proud of him.” Clint nodded. 

“He’ll be inducted into the S.H.I.E.L.D memorial and his mom can come to the ceremony.” You nodded, suddenly exhausted, and watched Clint dash upstairs. Truly alone for the first time in days, you took your own advice and allowed yourself to emotionally process everything. Your shoulders shook as you mourned Daryl’s loss and felt so much guilt for scaring Steve and the rest of the team. You couldn’t help but wonder if your absence would have saved Daryl’s life, if the team didn’t have to worry about keeping you safe. At the same time, a small spark of anger burned deep within you, fed by your helplessness and frustration over not being able to help. You realized how sick you were of staying behind and watching the people you care about get hurt. You eventually fell into a fitful sleep. 


	24. New and Old Wounds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been awhile! Sorry everyone. I just moved to a new city and started an internship, so I've been a bit preoccupied and stressed. But I haven't forgotten about this story and all you lovely folks. <3

After a completely unappetizing lunch of chicken broth with a side of well chewed jello, you tried to convince one of the nurses to let you shower. After you failed to persuade her, you cringed your way through a sponge bath. By the time you were vaguely clean, you were also frustrated and sore. You barred visitors from coming and slept some more, growing more and more irate with every reminder to take a sip of water that came from a well meaning nurse. The cups of cherry jello began to stack up on your table. You were busy pouting when someone knocked on your door. The severe doctor from last night checked your vitals and looked over your charts. “You have visitors. They’re on their way up to see you.” It was anything but a question. She simply raised an eyebrow at your protests and left the door open on her way out. Bianca stepped inside first, followed by Mark who leaned on a set of cuffed elbow crutches. You watched the two of them approach your bed in silence. You hadn’t seen Mark in person since he’d been rescued; the two of you had exchanged texts and you spoke with Bianca on occasion, but that was it. Your relationship suddenly felt more fraught than ever. 

But now Mark sat in front of you as Bianca tactfully took a seat across the room by the window. You were loathe to make eye contact, but you needed to see how he was doing. Physically, he looked better than ever. He looked as rested as he could be and you could tell that he carried a new sense of peace. But his barely contained rage might have suggested otherwise. “What the  _ fuck  _ were you thinking, Y/N?!” 

You clenched your fists around the sickly green hospital blanket and frowned down at your knees. “S’nice to see you too, Mark.” 

“I’m not playing around. I haven’t seen you since your what- boyfriend?- rescues me from some kidnappers and the next thing I hear is that you’re on life support?” 

“It’s not a nice feeling, huh?” you snapped, resorting to a decade-old argument. 

Mark scrubbed at his recently cut hair. “So this was, what? Payback? Because you could have joined the Peace Corps like every other good little humanitarian girl.” 

Now you were willing to look him in the eyes. “Not everything I do is about you, Mark! You’ve moved on, but I guess I’ll just wait around, kick back and enjoy the show, maybe?” 

“You call running off after the Avengers moving on? They’ve destroyed entire  _ cities,  _ Y/N! They shouldn’t be running ops, and you shouldn’t be joining them. I don’t care that he’s Captain America, he had no right to drag you into this.”

You dug your palms into your eyes, trying to hold your tears of anger at bay. “It was my choice! I knew what I was getting into.” 

Mark laughed in your face. “You had no idea what you were signing up for. That’s what war is, that’s what happens when you get into bed with super soldiers and spies and rich guys who think that money can save the world.” 

You were crying outright, and you made no attempt to hide your fury and hurt. “And you’re so noble and heroic,  _ Mark,”  _ you spat at him. “The fate of the world on your back, look at you suffering all alone. Every choice you’ve made has affected the people around you, you’re not the only one who has the right to make those kinds of decisions.”

Mark looked over at you, his expression an infuriating combination of patronizing and angry. “Wrong. I was prepared for the war that I went into. You have no idea what the world is truly like.” 

“Get OUT!” You were actually a little satisfied when he flinched at your scream. You were less satisfied at the searing pain that ripped through your abdomen. You groaned and doubled over in bed, curling over your wound. Mark backed away from your bed as you cried out and nurses swarmed around you. As he and Bianca rushed out of the room you looked up at them through a gap in the bodies that surrounded you, finally realizing what had changed. “Congrats on the engagement,” you croaked before the door slammed shut. 

Luckily, you’d only irritated your wound and the surrounding tissue. All of your sutures were still in place, but your throat and muscles were a little worse for wear. The doctor tsk-ed at you as she managed to press on every sore spot on your body. You rolled over on your side and away from the door once the last nurse had left your room. You didn’t have any tears left to cry, so you settled for shaking, letting your quiet sobs wrack your body. You watched the sun set with bleary eyes and sat in silence as the room around you grew shadowy in the dusk light. Finally hollow, you inhaled a deep, cleansing breath, tensing when the latch on the door clicked open. You didn’t move, hoping that your unwelcome guest would get the hint and leave. “I know you heard me this time, Y/N.” Steve kept his voice low as he circled your bed and knelt by your head. Sadness and understanding filled his eyes as he took in your misery. Brushing your hair away from your face he leaned in and pressed his forehead to yours. He didn’t say anything as he sat on the hard floor by your bed and ran his fingers across your tense shoulders. 

Half an hour later, you had finally relaxed a little. Sitting on the tiles holding your hand, Steve commented. “He’s still here. Was sitting out there when Sam called me up here. I think he feels bad.” You stared at Steve, too empty to feel angry. Steve shrugged. “I’m not saying he shouldn’t be. He seems like an asshole.” Your eyes widened at your normally mild mouthed boyfriend. Steve quirked an eyebrow. “I will always be on your side, doll. And I get the feeling that this isn’t the first time he’s come in guns blazing.” You rolled onto your back and tried to sit up, whimpering a little at the pain. Steve rose and guided you to a sitting position. You leaned forward into his bulk and warmth. 

“I’m so tired, Steve,” you whispered, hating how broken you sounded. 

You felt Steve nod above you. “I’ll tell ‘em to come back another ti-” 

You shook your head and Steve leaned back to look at you through the darkness in the room. “I don’t want to leave things like this. What if…” You let the question hang in the air, but Steve seemed to understand. As you finally took a voluntary sip of lukewarm apple juice, Steve flipped on your bedside light and left. By the time he returned with Mark, you had collected yourself. While Mark situated himself in a chair by your side, Steve and a nurse both peered through the door before you waved them away. As Mark sat contritely you ran your fingers along the spiderweb of cracks on your sunglasses. “I’m done explaining myself to you,” you said quietly. Mark looked up and started to speak, but you weren’t finished. “I mean I’m completely done. We’re not kids anymore. I don’t need you to second guess every move I make. What I need is a friend.” You hiccuped and put a hand to your forehead, clutching the sunglasses painfully in your other hand. Mark tugged your hand from your head and laced his fingers with yours. You thought back to all of the times you had to force him out of bed as he aimed all of his anger and pain and sadness at you. You always held all of your frustration and hurt feelings at bay as he broke down in your arms. You wondered if he remembered those hard, hard days the same way you did. As he rose and levered himself onto the mattress next to you and pulled you into a hug, you thought that maybe he was finally starting to see things from your perspective. 

Mark left not long after that. You were both raw, but you said goodbye knowing that you had come to an understanding years in the making. Steve swooped in as soon as Mark left and sat next to you as you ate your bland dinner. He said nothing about the sunglasses that you kept on the bed with you, he simply sat next to you eating the red jello that you had gladly gifted to him. 

The day took its toll on you and you fell asleep quickly. Steve gently placed the bloody souvenir on the bedside table and climbed into bed with you, making sure to keep his arm off of your injured torso as you both slept.


	25. We Need to Talk

You were back on your feet within a few weeks. You stayed with Steve for a while to be closer to the infirmary, but even after you were given a clean bill of health, you chose to spend your nights with him. Your relationship with the team strengthened but it changed a lot too. You and Wanda were closer than ever. Clint, surprisingly, was the most understanding of them all on days when your memories and residual pain threatened to drown you. Tony tended to keep his mouth shut around you, choosing instead to watch you pensively as you spent time with Steve and your friends. You knew that something was brewing, so you kept your distance, afraid to force his hand. 

Steve seemed to be constantly struggling between the need to suffocate you and the knowledge that you would hate it if he gave in. Exhausted and already groggy from pain meds, you would fall asleep first every night but you knew that he was next you, watching you breathe and worrying. He went on a couple of missions while you recuperated; you never asked to join and he never extended an invitation. Instead, you would cycle between your lab, his apartment, and the operations office while he was gone. Maria and the rest of the analysts knew to expect you and you had a drawer in Steve’s room and your toothbrush joined his in its spot next to the sink. You soon settled back into a routine, one that consisted of as much lab work as before, but with the benefit of friends and your boyfriend waiting for you at the end of the day. 

Gradually, Steve began to relax around you and Mark even started texting you more regularly. He’d asked you to be his best man and you’d gladly accepted. Things started to feel normal. But you were constantly contemplating your place in the world . It wasn’t nightmares that haunted you, but rather the thought that you weren’t doing enough, that you could be taking some kind of action. You kept your broken sunglasses on your bedside table and went to meet Daryl’s mother when she came to his dedication ceremony. She’d cried in your arms when you told her about Daryl’s contributions to the team. You kept quiet about your worries though. The only one who seemed to notice was Tony, because his mind was working as fast as yours was. It all came to a head a few months later. 

* * *

It was late at night and you were sitting cross legged on Steve’s bed doing research. You hadn’t seen him in hours, but you were content to wait for him as you worked. He came back around midnight, leaning against the door for a moment to watch you before he stepped into the room. You looked up when the bed shifted as he sat down. Pushing your laptop away, you slid forward and wrapped your arms around his waist from behind. Burying your nose in his neck, you inhaled his scent and tightened your grip around him. “What’s wrong, dollface?” you murmured into his skin. He wilted a little in your arms and you noticed the tablet in his hands. “Steve,” you began warningly. Shifting, Steve turned to face you and handed over the tablet. You looked down at its screen and read over the list of locations and the dates that went with them. “Tony and Maria’s people have been compiling data. They’ve found a couple dozen possible hideouts where homegrown Hydra sympathizers could be staying. They’re all pretty remote and they all have ties to neonazi activity. Turns out Nazism’s not the only thing that’s coming back into Vogue these days.”

You looked over the list again. “These have you guys traveling for three months,” you said quietly. You stared up at Steve, who looked apprehensively back at you. You hated that he had to leave again, but you knew that missions were overdue. You climbed onto his lap and held his face in both of your hands. “Come back to me in one piece. That’s an order.” You weren’t being playful. Steve nodded as he sank into your arms in relief. You held him tight and didn’t let go for the rest of the night. 

Steve left early the next morning to attend a series of meetings to prepare for the missions. You grabbed several coffees from the cafe downstairs and made your way to the executive office. You bypassed the receptionist, who knew better than to say anything, and threw the door open. Plunking the ridiculously priced cappuccino down on the mahogany desk, you planted both hands on the edge and leaned forward. 

“Tony, we need to talk.” 


	26. Diverted

While Steve and the rest of the team followed intel on possible Hydra hideouts, you took some time off from official projects. But that didn’t mean that you weren’t working in your lab. The DARPA project had been completed and sent back to the DoD, but you still had research and leftover materials from your work on it. You got back in touch with Shuri as well, asking her for advice as you modified your newest creation. Tony would check in weekly, coaching you through coding and hardware design. 

You talked with Steve as often as you could. You did your best to keep things light, especially when you could hear his exhaustion and frustration through the phone. Although your work managed to distract you for the first week or so, Steve’s absence soon became painful. You missed curling up next to him at night and waking up with him every morning. The scratchy connection through the satphone only added to the feeling of distance between you. You wanted to see his face and hear his voice as he sat across from you. Only then would you know if he was truly okay. 

After the first few weeks, you knew that you had to do more to distract yourself. You pushed yourself harder and harder at the gym, first during physical therapy with Carly as you recovered and then by yourself. You also enrolled in a field medic class, familiar with the coursework from your time as an EMT during college. After you finished the first course, you balked at the commitment that would come with even more advanced training, not wanting to be busy at school when the team came back. You were sitting at home, looking through the class requirements when your phone rang. Caller ID labeled the caller as “unknown” but you immediately knew who it was . “Steve?” you asked. 

“Hey doll.” He sounded different. Exhausted, yes. But there was something else.

“What’s wrong?” Your mind immediately ran through worst-case scenarios. Death. Serious injury. More kidnapping. The start of the next World War. 

“Nothing’s wrong.” Steve’s voice cut through your panicked thought process. 

“But…” you prompted. 

“We’ve extended the mission by three months.” The admission came out in a rush.

“ _ Three months?” _ you repeated incredulously.

“At least,” Steve added meekly. You sighed and nodded. 

“Doll?” You realized that you hadn’t said anything. 

“I’m here, Steve. I’m not mad. It just...sucks. I really miss you." 

“The feeling’s mutual. We  _ might  _ be able to take a few days off, but Tony’s got us on a pretty tight schedule.”

“Well tell him that I’ll make his life hell if I don’t get to see you sometime soon,” you ordered. 

Steve chuckled. “I’ll talk to you soon, doll.”

“You’d better, soldier.”

“I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you too, Rogers.”

 

You enrolled in the paramedic program as soon as you hung up. 

* * *

Between classes, working out, and working in your lab, you managed to keep yourself busy and to keep most of your mind distracted. You still checked news sites obsessively and kept your phone on you at all times. Maria stopped by your lab every so often, bringing you updates and snippets of information when Tony was being particularly cryptic. From what the analysts could gather from various hacks and data uploads, there were various homegrown Hydra cells popping up all over the world. While a few had direct connections with the organization that aided the Nazis and went on to infiltrate S.H.I.E.L.D., the majority of them were inspired by lore and hatred. These ones managed to create hideouts that they filled with weapons and memorabilia, where members of the new Hydra order would then plan and execute attacks like the one on the night of the gala. Lacking centralized leadership, these groups would attack and then go back into hiding, making tracking them all the more difficult.

 

You had been working non-stop for five months. You had begun to study for your final written and practical examinations for your paramedic course and your personal project was almost ready to begin preliminary testing phases. It was a Friday night and your muscles were sore from too many squats followed by hours spent at a computer; all you wanted to do was stand in a hot shower and let the water beat down on you. Dumping your textbook and several notebooks on your kitchen table, you ordered dinner and went to change out of your work clothes. You had just tossed your blouse and lab coat into the hamper when there was a knock at your door. You frowned, checking the time. Even the best restaurants didn’t deliver that fast. Tugging a tank top on and grabbing your phone, you cautiously opened the door to your apartment. 


	27. A Brief Reunion

“Ooof!” Steve huffed when you launched yourself into his arms. Squeezing you tightly, he buried his face in your neck while you wrapped your legs around his waist. After a long moment together in the hallway outside of your apartment, Steve set you back on your feet, nodding politely at your elderly neighbor as she walked by with her cat on a leash. Taking his hand, you pulled Steve inside and shut the door behind you. “You’re really here!” you said as you cupped his face in your hands. He’d grown his hair and beard out, the naturally blonde highlights turning dark as his hair grew past his ears. It had taken you a second to recognize him, but you’d know those eyes anywhere. You stood on your tiptoes so you could run your hands through his hair and nuzzle at his cheeks. He looked at you with a slight frown. “Do you hate it? Nat kept talking about some study about women liking beards and Sam was all for it, but I think he’s biased. And Tony-” 

You cut Steve off with a kiss that left him breathless as you wove your fingers through the long locks at the base of his head. “I love it. But I’d love it if you shaved it all off or dyed it purple.” Steve grinned and pulled you back in for a kiss. Soon, your legs grew tired from standing on tiptoe. Standing on flat feet, you looked up at Steve, still marveling that he was there in front of you. “How long are you back for?” 

“A day, day and a half tops. We’re going to Indonesia next.” You pouted a little, hating how little time you had with him. 

“Well doll, we’ll just have to make the best of the time we have.” You squeaked in surprise as Steve lifted you up and perched you on the counter. Your legs wrapped around his waist again, the action becoming automatic. You pushed his leather coat off of his body so that you could press against him. He slipped his hands underneath your tank top and ran his hands along your back and sides. “You’ve. Changed,” he gasped as you attacked his neck and mouth. You didn’t pause as he dragged his hands down your muscled shoulders and arms. 

“I’ve been working out,” you muttered as he squeezed your biceps and you nibbled at one of his earlobes. Leaning back just enough to grip the hem of his blue shirt, you yanked the fabric upwards and over his head. He grinned at you from beneath a halo of mussed hair and you moaned a little. You were busy running your hands over his smooth skin as your mouths clashed when there was another knock on your door. Steve didn’t seem to notice and you considered ignoring it when the knocks came again, more insistent this time. “Steve, the pizza,” you managed to wheeze. Steve stood back, chest heaving as you grabbed money from your bag and went to answer the door. The man holding the pizza box peered appreciatively at the shirtless, muscular man standing impatiently in your kitchen. You practically threw the money at him as you grabbed the box. “Keep the change,” you directed and closed the door. 

Steve grabbed the box and you thought for a second that he was cutting your reunion short but then he tossed it onto the table. You heard the cardboard skitter across the surface, but you were quickly distracted when Steve pulled you back up into his arms. “Bedroom?” he growled. You pointed over his shoulder, grateful that you didn’t have enough hours in your day to mess up your room. Steve stalked into your room and sat on the edge of your bed, making sure to keep your legs wrapped around him. He spread his knees and you dropped down into the space he created, slotting your body against his. Now that you both had leverage, you were able to move your bodies against each other. Steve supported you with one hand and worked the other up your shirt. You let yourself flounder in the sensations of Steve exploring your body for several minutes before you pulled away. You wanted to see  _ all  _ of him, to run your hands over his body, to convince yourself that this was real and he was safe. Ignoring his protests, you slid out of Steve’s lap and grabbed him by his belt buckle. “Strip,” you commanded. Steve raised his eyebrows in surprise, but complied. As soon his pants and underwear hit your bedroom floor, you placed a hand on each of his mouth watering pecs and pushed him backward. He landed gracefully, so you knew the sounds he made were inspired by something else. Kicking his clothes away, you knelt between his legs and ran your hands up and down his thighs. “D’you know how long I’ve waited to do this?” you questioned. Steve looked down at you and you wondered how you must have seemed to him, with your lust blown eyes and heaving chest. 

“Did you think of me?” you asked as you dragged your hands closer to Steve’s hardened member before quickly dancing them away. Steve didn’t take his eyes off of you, even as he twitched. “Every night,” he answered honestly, and you were happy to see that he felt no shame. You lowered your head and pressed kisses along his skin, starting at his knees and working your way up. “Because I thought of you.” You leaned forward and kissed his stomach. 

“Doll…” Steve’s voice cracked as your lips approached him.

You cocked your head and grinned up at him. “Between the serum and all of that...thinking. How good did you get, Steve?” you pressed. Steve moaned.

“Pretty damn good, doll.” 

“Good. Then this round’s on me.” You took Steve in your mouth and cocked an eyebrow in satisfaction at the sounds he made above you. You had thought of doing this, and a hundred other things as you laid awake at night, thinking of Steve and missing every inch of him. You bobbed your head and moaned a little in response to Steve’s movements above you. After almost six months away from you, it didn’t take Steve long to come apart. Leaning back on his arms and twisting your covers in his hands, he thrusted a few times and let out a moan that rumbled through his body and into yours. You were prepared when he came with a shout and you resurfaced not long after. Steve let himself flop back with a groan as you crawled up beside him, tucking yourself against his side. Running your finger along the peaks and valleys of the muscles on his chest, you listened to his heartbeat. Craning his head to look at you, Steve smiled. “Seems like you’ve been doing some thinking of your own.” You nodded and pressed a kiss to his chest. He turned so that he was facing you. “You’re wearing more clothes than I pictured though.” 

Your eyes widened in surprise. “Already?” Steve grinned and rolled over so his body covered yours. You wiggled and realized that he was, indeed, ready for another round. He tugged at your waistband as he attacked your mouth with his own. “You said it yourself, doll. Lotta practice, super serum, an’ all that.” You pulled your tank top over your head as he pulled your sweatpants off, leaving you as bare as he was. You threw your hand over the side of the bed and rummaged around in your bedside table as Steve worked his way up from your hips. Finally, your fingers closed around a foil covered packet and held the condom up just as Steve reached your mouth. Past words, you handed it to him and watched as he slipped it on and leaned over you. You guided his hands as he lined himself up with your entrance. “Go easy on me, soldier,” you gasped as he began to push inside of you. “It’s been awhile and there aren’t any toys in the universe that can do you justice.” You cut yourself off with another gasp as Steve slid all the way inside of you. His hips nestled against yours, Steve kissed you deeply as you began to relax below him. Gradually, the tension you felt came from pleasure and not pain. Steve grinned when you wrapped your feet around him and dug your heels into the muscles above his ass. “Mooove,” you whined. 

“Yes ma’am,” he said echoing what he’d said the first time the two of you had slept together. No longer afraid of his body’s movement across yours, Steve surged forward with confidence. You moaned as his thrusts pushed you further up the bed. All of your pent up worry and stress and physical longing for Steve gathered and coiled in the bottom of your stomach. Leaning his forehead against yours, Steve stuck his hand between your legs and began to rub at your clit. Your eyes rolled back in pleasure and you had to force yourself to make eye contact with him, You wanted to watch him, wanted to watch his lips contort in pleasure as he pounded into you. When your eyes met his, you could tell that he was thinking something similar as his brow furrowed. He watched you carefully as your moans turned to shouts of ecstacy. Steve grunted your name and jerked his fingers against you and your back arched, pressing your body into his chest as you came. Seeing the orgasm wash over you, Steve came too, twitching and moaning.

 

* * *

 

Kissing his sweaty brow, you asked breathlessly. “When was the last time you had pizza from Antonio’s?” 

Steve leaned down to kiss you. “S’been a while. And you know how much I love Antonio’s,” he said teasingly. 

“But?” you asked, playing along. 

“I’ve missed you more.”


	28. Keep Me Close

You woke up early enough to make breakfast alongside Steve before he had to leave again. You picked at your meal as he tucked in to his; his eggs, toast and bacon rapidly disappeared while the food seemed to stick in your throat. As it got closer and closer to the time he was supposed to leave, the dread sat heavier and heavier in your chest. He looked up at you from his empty plate, noticing the tears that had appeared in your eyes. “Oh doll,” he sighed. You quickly stood and cleared the table, trying to distract yourself. Steve stood next to you at the sink and carefully set down the juice glasses. Prying the twisted towel out of your hands, he pulled you to his chest. You sniffled and inhaled, memorizing his scent and the feel of his arms around you all over again. “I hate saying goodbye to you,” you admitted. “I feel so selfish for wanting you to stay home with me.” 

Steve took a shuddering sigh that rippled through his chest. “An’ I hate leavin’ you, doll.” He chuckled. “I’ve started thinking about doing other things with this life of mine lately.” You looked up at him, resting your chin on his chest. 

“Those’re dangerous thoughts,” you commented, knowing that for the foreseeable future, that’s all they would be. “I don’t want you settling down. I just want you home in my arms, in one piece.” You reached up and tucked a lock of his still startlingly long hair back into place. Suddenly Steve’s eyes lit up and he dug around in a pocket while keeping his other arm wrapped around your body. “I almost forgot. I had the chance to go through some of my stored stuff while everyone was debriefing yesterday. I wanted you to have these.” He pulled his hand out of his pocket and dangled something in front of your face. Two sets of tags clinked faintly quietly together at the end of their chains. Steve’s name, military ID number, and blood type were stamped into the small metal plates. One set was on a considerably shorter chain, the metal beads looked like they had been hastily clipped to fit a slender neck. The other set looked more worn than the first. Tears welled in your eyes again as Steve lowered his dog tags into your palm and closed your fingers around them. “Keep me close to your heart.” You ran your fingers along the lettering and held up the shorter chain. “But Peggy…” Steve smiled sadly.

“I don’t know if this is strange, but I think she woulda really liked you. You’re spitfires with a thing for ordering me around. An’ somehow, you do a better job of it than the U.S. Army ever did.” He paused. “I think she’d want you to have them. To keep me accountable, ya know?” You nodded and pressed them to your chest. Steve’s phone buzzed and he looked down at the notification and grimaced. “They’re two minutes out. I’d better get going.” He bent to grab his duffle when you shot your hand out. 

“Wait!” Steve looked over at you in alarm. “Sorry, Steve. I just. Aren’t you supposed to keep one? In case…” You hated to even think it, but years of military tradition nagged at the back of your mind. “I’ll keep you close to my heart, but what about me?” You had no dog tag to offer him, no trinket of any sentimental value or a reminder of your relationship. Steve took his most recent, post-serum, tags out of your hand and took one of the tags off of the chain. Closing the chain, he pulled it over your head so that the lone metal disk was hanging over your sternum. Taking his shield from his back, he flipped it over and wedged the tag behind the straps. His name and ID number now rested against his shield. Leaning down to look, you noticed that the tag was pressed against the vein of metal left over from when you repaired his shield. Slipping the shield onto his arm, he wiggled it. The tag didn’t budge. “See? Now you’re both protecting me.” His phone buzzed again and his face fell as your tears began to fall in earnest. You threw your arms around his neck and squeezed as hard as you could. Still wearing his shield, Steve squeezed back. “I love you doll. Never forget that.” 

You stood at your kitchen window that faced the street, and watched Steve jog down the steps and towards the car idling at the curb. He looked up at you once more before getting into the car. You closed your hand around his dog tags and pressed a hand to the glass. He nodded goodbye and closed the car door, disappearing behind the tinted glass as the car sped away. 


	29. Practice

You walked into your lab Monday morning and went straight to the back room where your project was stored. Booting up all of the computers that surrounded it, you pulled on a pair of thick protective gloves and connected the tech to its power source. A loud whirring and a faint smell of ozone filled the air. Opening the control program on the main computer, you ran a test protocol. Code flickered across the screens and the whirring sound got even louder. The power coils began to glow and all of the hairs on your neck stood on end. The smell of ozone swamped your senses and alarms began to trill from all of the terminals. You realized that you had overestimated the machine’s ability to properly distribute the massive amounts of energy that it required. You reached over to cut the power, but your bulky gloves couldn’t reach the small emergency power switch. Tearing one glove off with your teeth, you slipped your hand and hit the toggle at the same time that the whole thing overloaded. 

You let out an involuntary grunt as you were thrown backward. Your entire body stiffened as your muscles spasmed as electricity coursed through your arm. There was a small explosion and alarms began to scream outside. You sat, dazed, on a pile of spare parts against the opposite wall, waiting for your senses to clear a little. The sound of boots approached as security and several other lab managers entered your main lab and began to knock on the locked doors. Groaning, you heaved yourself onto your feet and limped to open the door. Making sure they couldn’t see the mess behind you, you shouldered past them, closing and locking the door behind you. 

“Sorry about the commotion folks. My project shorted out.” Stephanie from aero down the hall led you to a chair. “A short?” Y/N, you blew the breakers for the entire floor. I didn’t know that was possible with our wiring. When did you start developing explosives?”

“It was only a  _ minor  _ explosion and completely unintentional,” you said reasonably. Stephanie shook her head and chuckled, waving security away. 

“Well, it’s not like she’s going to have to answer for anything,  _ again _ . Putting out for Captain America has done wonders for her lab funding.” Frank’s voice cut through the room, immediately putting everyone on edge. 

“Shut up, Frank. When I made it clear that you weren’t welcome near any of my techs, I thought that staying out of my lab was kind of a given.” Frank sat down in your favorite lab chair and wheeled himself into view. 

“Well, Y/N, all you need to do to solve this problem is go see Stark. I’m sure if you got on your knees and opened that pretty mouth of yours, he’d-” The room was still swimming a little and every single muscle in your body screamed in protest as you flashed to your feet and loomed over Frank, forcing him to lean back into the ergonomic padding. 

“You have thirty seconds to get your beta male ass out of my lab before I shove that faulty wiring so far up your ass you’ll be spitting sparks.” Your fingers tightened around the arm rests and everyone in the room flinched as the plastic and metal crumpled in your grasp. Frowning, you straightened and gave Frank just enough room to flee your lab, leaving everyone else in the room standing awkwardly as you swayed a little on your feet. 

“Okay everybody. Show’s over. I think I’m gonna pay a visit to my good friends in medical.” Stephanie nodded, a little awestruck as all of the lab heads filed out of your lab in silence. 

A med tech walked up to the exam table you were sitting on as one of the doctors examined you. Wordlessly, he held up a large tablet and the Stark logo in the middle dissolved, revealing Tony’s face. “You certainly know how to start the week off with a bang,” he commented dryly. You sighed and waited for the doctor to finish applying ECG electrodes to your chest before answering. “I thought you were on your way to Indonesia.” 

“Oh we are. We’re just stopping by Bangkok. There’s this really great restaurant that-” 

“Are you even going to ask me about the progress that I’ve been making?”

“I dunno, Y/N. Would you even answer? I kind of figured it was one of those exercises in futility that I’ve heard so much about.” 

You glanced up at the doctor who was looking over your ECG. “Hey doc? Can I have the room? No explosions, I promise.” You took the tablet from the tech and waited until they’d shut the door to continue.

“I need more, well, everything. Time, power, room. I know that I can do this, I just need a little back up.” 

Tony sighed and pressed a hand to his temple. “What does it look like I’ve been doing? I’ve been helping you against my better judgement, which is saying a lot for me.”

You shifted in bed and plucked a sticky electrode off of your chest and rubbed at the leftover adhesive. 

“Save it, Tony. This is no different from what you’ve done your entire career. Besides, I- I have to do something. Sitting around and watching my world fall apart is killing me.” Tony was silent for a long minute and you briefly wondered if the tablet had frozen. But then ice clinked against a glass tumbler as he took a sip of what looked like scotch. 

“I know the feeling. It’s been killing me for years.”

“ _ Please, _ Tony.”

“Fine. I just wish you would reach out to the rest of the team.” 

“You can’t tell Steve!” you half-shouted and looked around, hoping that no one would come running. 

“I already promised you that, approximately twenty times. I meant others, like Vision. If Banner were here, he could also he a huge help. I may be a bastion of good on my own, but you should see what I can do with a few minions on my side.” 

You sighed in defeat. “Fine. But only Vision and maybe Wanda. I don’t need anyone else trying to talk me out of this.” 

“I’m starting to think that would be highly unlikely.”

“Tony…”

“Mmm?” He looked at you over the rim of the glass. 

“Thank you.”

* * *

Since you had re-order and print more parts to replace the ones you’d accidentally fried, you were left without a project to keep you distracted. Knowing that a void like that was a recipe for some kind of breakdown, you called Mark the next day. After getting him a guest badge from security, you led Mark past your labs and downstairs into the bowels of the facility.

You shifted nervously from foot to foot as Mark methodically unpacked the black bags that you’d asked him to bring. He ignored your fidgeting as he grabbed two pairs of earmuffs from a nearby shelf and looped them around your necks. He finally stood in front of you and settled his hands on your shoulders. 

“I know that I promised that I’d only ask you this once, but are you really doing okay?” 

You gulped. “Yeah. I just never thought that I’d be doing something like this.”  Mark nodded. “I don’t know how I feel about you doing this either, but I trust you.” You knew that it took a lot for Mark to say that and to even half-mean it, so you let it go. 

“You ready?” he asked. You nodded. 

“Where do we start?”

 

Mark started by showing you to disassemble a handgun, teaching you its anatomy piece by piece, before having you take it apart again. At first you fumbled with the parts, the metal feeling heavy and ominous in your sweaty palms. You were never a fan of guns, but you were rapidly being reborn into a world where diplomacy was a backup tactic to the people targeting the people you loved. It would be impossible to teach you everything you needed to know in a single lesson, so Mark would join you at the facility’s firing range every few days. 

It was Mark’s presence that helped you to steady your shaking hands. As soon as he placed the weapons onto the table, he slipped back into his military training. He was patient yet demanding, insisting that you master assembly before allowing you to move on with your lessons. He showed you how to position your body and how to use the sights to properly aim. Soon, you began to grow used to handling the weapons and keeping them aimed away from people even when they were unloaded became second nature. You learned not to fear recoil and stopped jerking your finger against the trigger. You ended up doing research on the physics of firearms and on the specific weapons that you were using, so that you could apply equations to the information that Mark was giving you. 

One thing that your love of physics couldn’t necessarily fix was your aim. Mark could hit the targets with frustrating accuracy and even more infuriating effortlessness. When you pushed your friend for more specific tips, he simply shrugged.

“You just have to...I dunno, relax into it?”

“But you  _ just  _ told me not to let my arm sag and to plant my feet.”

“Yeah, but it’s more than that. It’s like your body, eyes, and mind all have to be in synch.”

“Your eyes are part of your body, so they’re always in synch,” you huffed. Mark just laughed and twisted your hips into a better position before adjusting your elbow. You steadied your breathing and squeezed the trigger. When Mark hit the switch that brought the target into view, the only sign that you had even fired was a small nick in the top corner. You swore and ripped off your earmuffs before stalking over to your bag and grabbing your water bottle. Mark let you stew for a minute before he joined you on the bench.

Stretching his legs out in front of him, he absentmindedly rubbed his knee. “You’re doing really well. What’s giving you the yips?” You frowned.

“I don’t have the yips.” 

“Yes you do. What do you see just before you take the shot?”

“The target. I visualize a flower opening and then shooting out a bullet and all that shit.”

“Smartass.” Mark stole a sip from your water bottle. “I mean it. Show me what you would do to take a shot.” Still sitting next to him on the bench, you straightened and mimed the action of lining up and taking a shot. You took a breath and pretended to pull the trigger. 

“There. What did you just see?” Mark said quietly. Your hands trembled a little as you lowered them into your lap. “I saw Daryl.” You closed your eyes and pictured yourself both in front of and behind the gun that killed the man beside you. You heard the crack and smelled the gunpowder. You hated that you felt like a villain. 

“Hey, hey.” Mark swiped a tear away from your cheek with his thumb. You hung your head in shame. Mark gave you a one armed hug. “I still don’t completely get why you’re putting yourself through all this, but I know it’s for a good reason.”

“I’m not a bad person, am I?” you asked quietly. Mark laughed outright. 

“You’re a lot of things. But you are the furthest thing from a super villain I’ve ever seen. Wanting to keep the people around you safe isn’t wrong. And if I thought you actively wanted to fight, I’d just tell you to enlist.” Mark stood and led you back to the booth. 

“Steady your breathing. Take a couple of breaths so your body relaxes. You’ll naturally reach a point where you can pause without feeling the effects of oxygen deprivation.” You inhaled and exhaled several times, feeling the tension leak from your body. “Good,” Mark murmured. “When you feel that pause, remember why you’re doing this and take the shot. Squeeze, don’t jerk.” This time, you allowed the images of Daryl to slip away your mind, thinking instead of Steve and Wanda and the rest of the team. Your team. You fluidly squeezed the trigger and blinked in surprise. Even from across the room, you could see the neat hole through one of the target’s central rings. 


	30. Deadline

It had been almost eight months since the start of the Avengers’ latest mission. You’d seen Steve three or four times since then, but was in the middle of the eighth month that you had several new visitors. As you tinkered with the power converter on your project, a familiar voice trickled down towards your spot on the floor. “Y/N, would you mind if I allowed Wanda to enter the premises?” You dropped the wrench you were holding onto your face before you pushed yourself out from beneath the hulking machinery. Vision offered you a hand and helped you up from the wheeled creeper you had been laying on. “Of course!” you cried as you pulled him into a hug. Unlocking the door, you grabbed Wanda and gave her a tight hug. “Why didn’t you just magic yourself in here?” you demanded, arms still wrapped around her. She giggled.

“I didn’t want to startle you. We’ve heard a couple of horror stories.” You grinned and put the project on standby mode before leading your friends into your main lab. “When did you guys get back?” Wanda spun around idly in one of the wheeled lab chairs. 

“Early this morning. Tony said that he thought we could help out with...whatever that thing is.” 

“So are you officially done?” You hated to get your hopes up. Wanda’s eyes lit up and she nodded happily. “We are! Well, a few of us are back now. Steve, Sam, Clint, and Natasha are in D.C. with Rhodey, debriefing the government or whatever.” 

“Oh thank god,” you sighed. “I’m so happy to see you. I’ve missed you so much and it’s been so weird without you. And you all must need a break.” Wanda nodded. 

“But first, tell me about what you want us to do with that thing. What the hell is it?” She nodded towards your back room. You opened your mouth to answer when Vision drifted through the wall, coming to rest beside you. “It appears to be a power conversion device, meant to distill and focus large quantities of power in order to apply the current to something.” Wanda stared blankly at you. You shrugged, suddenly wary about your friends’ reactions to your project. “He’s right. Have you ever seen footage of how Bruce or Steve got to be the way they are?” Wanda shook her head. You pulled up the classified schematics from their files up on your tablet. Skipping over the jargon, you simply showed her photos of the experiments in action. “Creation and mutation take unbelievable amounts of power. Some things accept change easily and are relatively stable. Think ice melting. Other things...well. Those take some elbow grease.” You smiled ruefully. “There’s a reason alchemists struggled to turn lead into gold.” 

Wanda frowned. “So you’re trying to turn lead into gold?” 

“Well, in this case, I’m trying to turn  _ me  _ into...something.” Seeing her expression change, you rushed to explain. “It’ll be highly controlled. Steve, Bruce, even Tony, all of the experiments that they took part in didn’t account for so many things. They were walking in blind. But I’ve been working on regulating the power flow so that I can do a better job of controlling it.”

“And then what?” Wanda asked skeptically. 

“And then I’ll-”

“And then she will expose herself to the energy and its byproducts. She is attempting to change her physiology.” Vision interrupted. Wanda’s eyes widened, but you noticed that she wasn’t protesting- yet. “I’m not trying to recreate Steve’s results or anything. I don’t want muscles or an angry green alter ego. I just need to be-” you paused, searching for the right word. “More,”

“Different.” Wanda spoke at the same time you did. You knew that she and Vision would understand. “So where do we come in?” she asked. You looked toward Vision for help explaining. “I believe that our combined powers will aid Y/N in her work. Evidently Tony thinks so as well.” 

“I do indeed, my bejeweled friend.” Tony swaggered into your lab looking refreshed and downright perky. Not like he was returning from an eight month tactical operation. You were simultaneously overjoyed and terrified to see him. His presence meant that your work was real. The two of you stared awkwardly at each other for a minute before Tony shook his head and looked around. 

“Ya know, I’ve never actually been down here before. It’s neater than I imagined. I pay for some pretty cool stuff.” 

“When’re we gonna do this?” You were too amped up, too anxious for pleasantries or to enable Tony’s drama. Tony seemed to be doing a few calculations in his head. 

“Gimme two days to get everything organized and to shut this place down for a while.”

“Good. Captain Rogers and the rest of the team should be home by then,” Vision commented. He looked over at you and smiled innocently, but he couldn’t tell your heart was sinking.


	31. In or Out?

It was midnight. You’d been working for hours reviewing and revising schematics with Tony and Vision. You were on your sixth cup of coffee, and at this point the caffeine was only making you jittery. You’d triple and quadruple checked your circuitry and eventually, you began to worry that your shaky hands and impending exhaustion would do more harm than good. 

Hoping to dilute the pure coffee running through your veins you left your lab and headed toward the cafeteria vending machines. Your footsteps echoed through the empty halls of the Avengers facility. It was quieter than usual; even at midnight there was always work to be done. But Tony had stayed true to his word and had ordered all non-essential personnel, and most of the essential ones too, off of the grounds for the weekend. Now only a few agents stood guard. You tried to swallow your unease, ignoring the memories of babysitting alone in huge empty houses that kept floating to the forefront of your tired mind. It took all of your self control not to run towards the sliver of light that signalled the cafeteria doors, but you still heaved a sigh of relief when your hands touched the metal handles. Swinging the doors open, you made a beeline for the vending machines. Tony had them stocked with a wide variety of healthy brain foods, but all you wanted was a package of semi-stale Chips Ahoy cookies. 

Now that you had what you came for, you were loathe to make the journey back through the halls to your lab. Instead, you turned to survey the cafeteria, hoping to find a well lit spot in a corner where you could eat in peace. As you searched for the perfect perch, you almost missed the figure leaning in the shadow of a stairwell. Your eyes wandered by before swiveling back, your heart in your throat. The figure stood up straight, pushing upright with crossed arms, before stepping into the light. The pitch black night reflected Steve’s image into a dozen versions of him in the illuminated windows around you. You surprised yourself when you didn’t jump out of your skin, as your exhaustion dulled the effects of the coffee. 

Steve’s form was stiff as he approached you. He stopped within an arm’s length and just stared at you. You looked up at him defiantly and waited for his judgement. You knew that he knew. And judging by his silence, he knew that  _ you  _ knew that he kn- you shook your head as the caffeine made an encore appearance. You were certain that as soon as Natasha heard what you were doing, and Natasha heard  _ everything,  _ that she would tell Steve. You were just surprised that he hadn’t already flown up from Washington to tie you up somewhere. But his continued silence obviously meant that he wanted you to throw the first stone, and you weren’t about to do so in the middle of an empty cafeteria. Instead, you turned on your heel and returned to your lab. 

Steve, for all of his bulk and strength, could walk as silently as Natasha. He followed in your footsteps, his footfalls blending into the silence of the building as your racing heart muffled the rest. You couldn’t hear him, but you could  _ feel  _ him. Even though you were already growing proactively angry at him, your body was still drawn to his. Over the course of your relationship, you’d learned to recognize him with all of your senses. But the knowledge that he was behind you, almost prowling, was like a sixth sense. All of your proprioceptors were trained on him instead of on yourself; in this moment in time you could take another bullet and not feel a thing. 

You arrived at your lab and held the door open and waited for Steve to step inside. Letting the door shut behind you, you opted to stand, abandoning your cookies by your computer. His arms still crossed, Steve leaned against a lab bench. You’d seen him level this expression at the rest of the team, especially Tony, when he was upset. You stared back at him, your chin jutting out just a little. 

“I don’t like it when my team goes behind my back.” His voice was gravelly, even without the static of a sat phone. 

“Your back was in Indonesia. Or was it South Africa? Or maybe Taiwan?”

“That’s not fair. Those were missions.”

“And I didn’t try to stop you, did I? I hate to watch you go, but I have always,  _ always  _ supported you. Why can’t you do the same, Steve?”

“Because this isn’t the same, Y/N! This is apples and goddamn oranges!” Steve’s voice reached an almost hysterical pitch as he spit curses toward you. But you didn’t mind, you were almost grateful that he was abandoning the ruse of being the only reasonable one in the room. You stepped in close, leveraging his height against him. “And why is that, Steve?” 

“Because you’re not an Avenger!” His words split the air between you both, robbing the room of all of its oxygen. You stepped away from him as panic flitted across Steve’s features. You watched in silence as he realized that he could never stuff those words back into his mouth. 

“There it is.” You had seen red plenty of times before, but you had never really felt white hot rage. Heat and then ice cold rushed through your body and you went completely still. Steve finished struggling with his outburst and began to defend himself. 

“There’s nothing wrong with that. You have your lab and that’s really great. You just aren’t built for the field. I was so afraid that I was going to lose you. You can’t imagine how I felt.” His eyes pleaded with you as you stared him down. You began to idly play with the straps of a bag that sat on a chair beside you. 

“And what were you, Steve, before you were the almighty Captain America? I’ve seen your medical records, I’ve heard you say it yourself. A failed enlistee with a heart of gold. Don’t let your biceps give you a superiority complex now, Steve. Conceit doesn’t suit you.” Steve held his arms out towards you, pleading, placating. “I couldn’t do half the things you can in a lab, Y/N. You’re a genius and I’m just good at fighting. I’m not doubting your commitment, it’s just that we all have the things we’re qualified for.” You nodded absently as your fingers closed around the heaviest item in your bag. 

Releasing the safety, you pulled the glock out of your bag and leveled it at Steve. He had enough time to widen his eyes in surprise before you twisted and fired two shots past his hip. You hit the repaired area of his shield in a neat triangular formation, the vibranium technology absorbed the force while the now harmless bullets dropped to the floor. Taking your finger away from the trigger, you ejected the magazine and popped the last cartridge out of the chamber. Setting the pieces on your desk you turned and watched Steve collect himself. You absently played with the .45 cartridge that you had kept in your hand. 

“You’ve been busy,” he commented. 

“It’s not the forties anymore, Steve. I don’t do house dresses and decoupage. I don’t put myself through shit like this to keep busy. I do it because I can make a difference.  I love you and the team to bits and you’re the some of the most remarkable people I’ve ever had the honor of spending time with. But you’re not the only remarkable people, Steve. Far from it. It's just that all of the crazy, stupid puzzle pieces karmically aligned themselves and you ended up meeting a scientist with some blue super juice, and Tony had a chip on his shoulder and several million dollars to waste. Hell, some of you didn’t even get the choice. Natasha was indoctrinated and Wanda watched her world literally  _ crumble  _ down around her.” You didn’t realize it at first, but your voice had grown steely. “I had hoped that our relationship would go both ways, that you would return the respect and trust I show you every time you leave me for some war zone. But I don’t need you to hold my hand through this. I’m doing it either way.” You looked down at your feet and whispered. “But I  _ want  _ you to be here.”

Steve looked at you coldly before grabbing his shield off of the floor and stalking out of your lab. Hanging your head, you stuffed your gun back into your bag and went back to work. You had a deadline to meet and there was no way you could sleep after this. 


	32. Concession

_ Steve stalked through the facility and barreled outside, heading for the treeline as he shed his jacket and eventually, his shield. He was barehanded when he approached the nearest oak tree and dug his fingers deep into its rough bark. Planting his feet against the unyielding ground he flexed and drew his hands away from each other. He roared as the huge tree split down the middle and fell into its neighbors with a muffled crash. As the stinging in his hands slowly began to overpower the anger vibrating through his body, Steve sighed and sat down on half of the felled tree. He sat in an angry, guilty silence that deepened as the sun began to rise over the Avengers Facility.  _

_ He didn’t bother looking up as somebody sat down next to him with a sigh and offered him a flask. Steve took a swig, knowing that the alcohol wouldn’t touch him, but he still appreciated its burn on the way down. “Ya know, this is what happens when two fixers shack up and catch feelings for each other.” Steve finally looked over.  _

_ “You and Pepper are both fixers,” he accused. Tony took the flask back and took a long sip. “Correction: we both fix. Pepper, she’s a fixer, but I’m a selfish bastard. Always looking out for number one.” Tony exhaled harshly at the sting of the alcohol. “You and Y/N? You’re both trying to fix the world, cure it of all of its ills and wage peace. No amount of serum or electricity can cure you of that kind of stupidity. But that doesn’t mean that you should give up on each other. You two don’t need fixing, so stop trying.” Steve sat in silence for several minutes. _

_ “You’re a lotta things, Tony. But selfish isn’t one of them.” Tony stood, tucking the flask into the back pocket of his designer pants before offering Steve a hand up. As they headed back towards the building, Tony clapped a hand on Steve’s shoulder. “You didn’t say anything about the bastard part, Cap.”  _

_“That’s cause that part was accurate, Stark.”_ _  
__“You ripped my tree in half,” Tony quipped in response._

  
  


You looked up with weary, strained eyes when the lab doors slid open. “Give us the room,” Tony ordered before heading over to a control panel and discretely turning his back to you both. Steve stepped forward, avoiding eye contact, trying to make his large form small in the pristine lab. You scrubbed at your face and sighed, preparing for another round of shouting. But instead, Steve took one of your hands in his own and pulled you against his chest. Your stiff form eventually sagged against him as you squeezed his hand in your own. Steve buried his face in your messy hair and inhaled deeply. “This is what I should have done when I got back.” After a moment, he stepped back and cupped your cheek in his other hand. “And then I should have supported your choice. I’m sorry that I lost my temper.” You looked up into his clear blue eyes and saw conflict raging beneath his lashes. Still a little suspicious, you cocked an eyebrow. Steve noticed and gave you a lopsided shrug. “I don’t like it at all, but you’re right, you’ve supported all of the choices I’ve made. What kinda guy would I be if I didn’t stand behind you with this thing?” he gestured at the lab and machinery around you. He stroked a thumb over your cheek and smiled. “You’re perfect the way you are and you don’t owe the world anything. But I’m standing by you, doll.” You turned your face into his palm and pressed your lips against it before pulling your head away to look at the scrapes that covered his skin. Seeing your questioning look, he shook his head. “Don’t ask.” 

You were about to respond when a series of chirps filled the room. Turning to face you at last, Tony held out his tablet. “The final calculations are done, ladies and gents. Are you ready to do this, Y/N?” Steve squeezed your hand as you choked back a wave of nausea. 

Steadying yourself, you nodded. “Let’s do this.”


	33. Oblivion

_ Steve stepped back as techs began to swarm around the lab that Tony had built specifically for her project. He watched Y/N slip into a decontamination shower and return wearing a sports bra and boyshorts. He watched her murmur with Tony as a doctor stuck EKG leads to her chest and abdomen and then slid a net of electrodes over her damp hair. He felt his normally steady heartbeat begin to rise as the machines around him began to whir. Covered with monitoring equipment, Y/N turned and approached the platform. Sensing the growing finality of the action happening around him, Steve stepped forward and gently shouldered through the crowd of people surrounding the woman he loved.  _

_ She looked up as he approached and smiled wanly at him. Steve frowned and touched a finger to her bare skin. “It’s electroconductive gel. So I don’t fry anything important. I’m covered, head to toe.” Steve peered over her shoulder.  _

_ “Is that what’s in there?” he asked. She turned to stare at the body-sized basin that sat at waist height. It was filled with a dense gel that would put him off of jello for good.  _

_ Y/N swallowed hard. “Yep. It’ll cradle me, just like a baby.” She looked up into Steve’s eyes, which betrayed the worry that he was failing to hide. “I’m just gonna lie down, get zapped by our good friends here,” she nodded up at a raised platform where Wanda and Vision now stood. “And emerge a changed woman. Easy peasy.” _

_ “Easy peasy,” Steve echoed faintly. He bit his tongue to keep himself from saying, screaming, his growing protests at the woman he loved. The world around him narrowed to a pinprick as he began to truly visualize all of the possible outcomes of the experiment. “Steve? It’s time.” Steve’s eyes snapped back to look at Y/N and he leaned down and pressed his lips against hers, ignoring her sticky skin. Y/N returned the kiss before stepping away from him. “See you on the other side, my love.”  Steve’s heart broke at the finality of her words; backing away from her as she lowered herself into the gel was the hardest, most painful thing he had ever done. He joined the rest of the team as they gathered across the room. He watched Y/N slip a mouth guard between her teeth before nodding at Tony.  _

_ Steve barely listened to the countdown, barely noticed as Vision and Wanda aimed twin beams of energy at the capacitors that loomed over Y/N’s prone form. Ignoring the protective goggles being passed around, he squinted towards the center of the room as Y/N disappeared in a bubble of light and energy. All of the hair stood up on his body as the smell of ozone swamped his senses. He felt as if he were standing in the middle of a lightning storm, but there was no thunder to drown out the sound of her screams.  _

 

You’d expected it to hurt. You’d been shot, concussed, and electrocuted before. You foolishly thought that all of these experiences would have prepared you for this sensation. You were wrong. You felt the electricity and energy as it flowed through your body. You swore you could trace its path through your major vessels all the way down to your tiniest capillaries. The pain was so intense that you eventually disassociated; your mind was attempting to separate your consciousness from your suffering body. Except, the pain followed you upwards, so that even as you stared at your convulsing form beneath you, every inch of your body was wracked with pain. You watched a bubble of energy begin to bloom around your physical form, obscuring you from view. Just before your eyes disappeared beneath the sea of power, they snapped open. You gasped as you made eye contact with yourself and let out a scream as you were dragged, first back into your body, and then into oblivion.


	34. Eye of the Storm

_ Steve lunged forward and surged towards Y/N’s platform. He beat the medical team there by a second, but stood by helplessly as she convulsed, thrashing against the gel that cradled her form. Nobody tried to move him as they shoved needles full of sedatives into her arms and shouted vitals and orders across her body to each other. The power had long since ceased, but still her shaking body raged on. Only the whites of her eyes were visible as she groaned, unable to respond to the people shouting her name.  _

_ Steve only knew that it had been so long when one of the techs called out: “It’s been five minutes, doctor.” Suddenly, everyone was in motion and the head physician shoved her face into Steve’s field of vision. “She’s in status epilepticus- she’s been seizing for too long. We need to get her into treatment.” Steve nodded numbly and gingerly lifted her shaking form onto the waiting gurney. He followed the neurological team in silence to the emergency treatment area. He watched as they hung various IV bags and worked to stabilize her.  _

_ Finally, after fifteen agonizing minutes, Y/N’s shaking form calmed and she went blessedly limp. It would be another twenty minutes before Steve was able to properly sit next to her. They’d inserted an endotracheal tube, which he recognized from when she’d been hurt in Argentina. She looked pale in the hospital lights, tiny and delicate in a way that squeezed at Steve’s heart. The sheets around her were smeared with residual gel and her hair was sweaty and lank around her face. She would twitch a little every once in awhile as her frenzied synapses struggled against their mistreatment. Eventually, nurses rolled her away to clean her up and the rest of the team led Steve away too.  _

_ Natasha stood by Tony’s side as he obsessively re-checked his calculations while Clint held a sobbing Wanda upright before leading her to a seat. Vision watched the chaotic scene as a deepening look of concern spread across his smooth face. Sam appeared next to Steve and pressed a bottle of water into his shaking hands. Steve wasn’t able to process the words Sam was saying, but he guessed that they were supposed to be comforting. As he gulped the water down, Steve realized the he felt no anger towards Tony or the rest of them. He wasn’t even angry at Y/N anymore. He just felt...lost.  _

 

You swore that you could hear helicopters and Daryl’s voice, but they slurred and eventually morphed into Mark’s laughter and then the sound of the VA hospital where you used to work. After drifting away and then back into consciousness, you gradually became aware of another voice next to you. You clung to it as your mind struggled against the fog that was overwhelming the rest of your senses. Afraid of what would happen if you lost track of the deep timbre, you worked to pick apart the words. 

If you had been awake, you would have chuckled as Steve struggled with the long names of various anatomical terms as he read physiology journal articles aloud to you. Sometimes he would sing Billie Holiday or just talk, recounting memories of his childhood in Brooklyn, of Peggy and the Howling Commandos. You heard his voice crack as he spoke of his lost love and all of the time he missed while he was in the ice. You listened as it warmed as he described Bucky and the trouble they got into as kids. “You’d love ‘im, doll. And not just ‘cause of that arm of his. You should see him and Sam go at each other.” Steve paused. 

 

“Please come back,” he whispered. 


	35. Awake

_ Steve was flipping through a thick booklet filled with more confusing diagrams and boring abstracts, vaguely hoping that Y/N would wake up just to protest the monotony. But he was still surprised when she opened her eyes and looked blearily around the room. “You already read that one,” she murmured.  _

_ Steve smiled and abandoned the journal. “Welcome back,” he said gently.  _

_ She cleared her throat. “D-did it work? Am I green or extra hot or anything?” She struggled to sit up, but Steve pushed her back down.  _

_ “No green. And you’ve always been hot.” Steve’s smile didn’t reach his eyes and he could see disappointment flash across her face. He squeezed her hand. “The important thing is that you’re alive.”  _

  
  


You tried to remain a good sport as you endured the battery of tests that Tony subjected you to. After you took some time to recover from the seizure and the brief coma, you passed all of them with flying colors. But none of your scores were extraordinary in any way. No deficits but no significant mental or physical improvements either. You were grateful that Steve and the rest of the team didn’t press the issue, or even mention it once you left the hospital. You shied away from contact with them at first, the embarrassment was too much to handle. You could barely look Steve in the eye and you couldn’t help but feel like a huge idiot. 

You were grateful to transition back into work, where you had control over your life again. Nobody else knew about your abject failure and you decided to lock the door to your back lab room and throw away the key. Things had just returned to normal when Shuri breezed back into your lives. 


	36. Moving On

 

You and Wanda were sitting in a nook that overlooked the training grounds so you could watch Natasha and Steve intimidate the new recruits when the doors from the roof level slid open. You recognized the shaven heads and crimson armor of the Dora Milaje as they filled the hallway, bristling with weapons and distrust. Shuri came next, dressed in a pearlescent robe that was eclipsed by the brightness of her smile. Your joyful approach and greetings died in your mouth when the next visitor stepped into view behind your royal friend.


End file.
